


Giving It All

by godsandstars



Series: Fall in Deep [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Consent, Darcy Lewis's iPod, F/M, Hotel Sex, Jane dreams, Loki Does What He Wants, Magic, Porn With Plot, SHIELD, Sex, Smut, Teleportation, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8296996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godsandstars/pseuds/godsandstars
Summary: Six months post-breakup with Thor, Jane has been on her own, working on her Einstein-Rosen Bridge with Darcy on SHIELD's dime. When Loki shows up in Jane's house to confess that he's the one who's been sending those strange dreams of hers, everything changes.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and other copyrighted items owned by Marvel are not mine and are used for my entertainment only. :)

Each night, it was always the same: a cool rush of air, a rush of breath, and that terrible feeling of weightlessness that carried Jane into oblivion.  
  
She would float for a time, getting used to that vast space, the expanse of nothing that carried her aimlessly forward. She would open her eyes and try to see where she was going, but the only discernible things in sight were stars.  
  
Jane loved stars. She had learned their names as young as she could, when the world was still shiny and new. She would draw their constellations on everything -homework, books, paper mats at restaurants. Her parents were proud of her: such a young age, and already such _talent_. Now, as an adult - after Thor - she could finally prove that her interest was worth it.  
  
Every night, she floated; she knew she was going somewhere but had no control of the destination. She knew that someone was bringing her there, but had never met them, never seen them. She would often wake up jittery and restless, eyes wide open and heart racing. She always felt so close to whoever it was, as if all she needed to do was reach her hand out and she could touch them. This had been going on for a month, but she uttered none of it to anyone.  
  
But tonight was different - this time she’d been suspended even longer than usual,  and she felt something different about the space she was in. Jane could see a green haze - a sort of smoke covering the stars - and she opened her eyes wider, willing to _see_. And after what felt like ages, she felt it then: a light touch, feather-like, on her cheek.  
  
The touch came from an invisible thing, but it felt human enough. The warmth of what she imagined a hand penetrated her skin; she closed her eyes involuntarily, thinking that nothing else could have ever felt as right as that. Another touch came, lower, on her clavicle, and she opened her eyes again, the touch bringing a different kind of warmth. The touch trailed lower, over her breasts, down her belly, dancing, and suddenly she felt herself drawn in toward a body that she couldn’t see but she could _feel_. It was warm, and lean, and her heart began to race; she felt a finger trail over her lips, parting them, and then her head was brought in to meet a mouth, surprisingly soft and inviting.  
  
The kiss began slowly enough - Jane tasted what she imagined to be gin, and that pine tree scent associated with it filled her nostrils. She parted her lips, inviting them in, the thought never crossing her mind to figure out who they were.  
  
It felt like a long time, that slow kiss. Her hands were frozen to her sides, their hands were gripping her back, rubbing small circles in the fabric of her shirt. Briefly she wondered which shirt she even happened to be wearing - surely not the one with the stain?  
  
And then, suddenly, the kiss changed, turning heated and passionate. The sort of kiss she always imagined she’d have with Thor, the kind that made her head spin and her toes curl. This was _that_ kiss.  
  
Their hands were everywhere now, and before she knew it, her hands were wrapped around whoever they were. She felt the hard expanse of shoulders, and what felt like leather over them. A man, then. She thought she could hear his breath: sharp bursts, panting in between kisses, and his lips were trailing down her neck -      
  
And suddenly, it was over. Jane’s eyes popped open and she sat up in bed, hand gripping the sheets. Her heart was racing again, but this time for an entirely different reason. Her entire body was aching, yearning for the dream to come back. She wanted to finish what they started. She laid back in bed, head turning, checking the time. 4:48 AM. She had to be up at six.  
  
Heat was pooling in between her legs, and she clenched her thighs together, closing her eyes as she did so. If Thor were still here, she would reach over and grab him, wake him up, she’d rub him until he was hard, she’d be so ready for him he wouldn’t have to do anything at all. She’d make him stay on his back, slide him inside her…  
  
Her hand was trailing lower, caressing her belly like the stranger in the dream. She reached the waistband of her pajamas, pushed them off to her ankles, settling back down on the bed. She reached lower, until she reached her slit, sliding her fingers in - she was so wet that there was no resistance. She bit her lip, unable to stop the small moan escaping her lips. She was close already and hadn’t even done anything yet; it wouldn’t take much.  
  
Jane’s mind was dancing between the two men: the one she knew very well, and the one she didn’t know at all, not even what he looked like. Thor wouldn’t have her anymore, but it didn’t stop her from remembering the feel of him inside her, his hips jerking to reach his pleasure. The stranger she could only imagine: if his kiss made her spin, what else could he do?  
  
She dipped her fingers in and out for a minute, enjoying the feeling of invasion momentarily. She used her own wetness as lubrication on her clit, sensitive from neglect: it only took thirty seconds or so, fingers swirling around and around in a rhythm only she could master. She felt the impending sensation, the arrival of her orgasm past the precipice. Her walls began to clench, and animal instinct drove her other hand down, fingers pumping her cunt, her eyes squeezing shut tight in preparation for her release - and it came, and she cried out, her hips jerking and swirling with her fingers on her clit, riding it, riding herself until she couldn’t take the sensation anymore.  
  
Once it was over, she relaxed against the mattress, bone tired. She pulled her pants back up, and laid there for a moment, allowing her breathing to go back to normal.  
  
As she was drifting back to sleep, she thought she felt another ghost of a touch, but didn’t stir.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jane, there’s some asshole agent on the phone for you.”  
  
Jane spun around in her chair, leaving her endlessly streaming screen of numbers behind her. Darcy was holding the office phone out to her as if it was something unsavory, not to be touched. Jane raised her eyebrows at Darcy’s crassness, but she could no longer be surprised by it.  
  
She took the phone, warm from use, and held it up to her ear.  
  
“Doctor Foster speaking.”  
  
The voice on the other end was cold, clipped; the only sort of voice you’d expect to hear when it was attached to SHIELD.  
  
“Yes, Doctor Foster. My name is Agent Wilson. I’m calling because we must inform you that a dangerous captive we held is no longer in our custody as of yesterday evening. I understand you’ve met him - Loki? Thor’s brother.”  
  
“Oh,” Jane said, unsure of what else to say. Her fingers gripped the phone a little tighter, and she darted a glance at Darcy, who had gone back to her own PC and was typing furiously. She lowered her voice. “I didn’t even know you had him.”  
  
“Well, Doctor, if you had, we wouldn’t be doing our jobs very well,” Wilson said, a touch impatience in his voice. Jane heard the sound of rustling papers on the other end. “Listen, we know that Thor has ended romantic involvement with you,” he went on, as if talking about the weather, “but we only ask that you keep an eye out, stay alert, that kind of thing. If you see or hear anything suspicious, call me immediately.”  
  
Or _hear_ , he said. The hairs on the back of Jane’s neck raised slightly; she knew that Loki had abilities - she had seen him die before her, turn _blue_ , and show up months later, infiltrating Thor’s life, _hers_. The last she knew, he was serving time on Asgard for everything he had done the last couple years; New York, particularly, but there was also the bit about throwing his father into a cell so he could pretend to be the Allfather for a few months. But obviously, something else happened that SHIELD didn’t see fit to tell her. Or Thor.  
  
Thor. She had been doing so well, nursing the wound he had left her. It had been at least a week since she had really thought about him. And now this - and her dream - was bringing things back, the memories and feelings she had been shrouding with work - numbers and stars - but she knew it was only temporary, that eventually, the curtain would raise.  
  
“Doctor Foster? Are you alright?”  
  
Jane snapped out of her reverie, she spun back toward her computer, eying warily the numbers dancing across her screen. She was close to figuring out one piece of the Einstein-Rosen Bridge she was working on, a futile effort, she knew, but it gave her comfort to know she was reaching toward something.  
  
“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll keep an eye out, and I’ll call you if I see anything.”  
  
She took down his number and hung up the phone, setting it down with slightly more force than necessary. She turned to look at Darcy, who was peering at her with an inquisitive expression on her face, silently asking.  
  
“Well,” Jane said, deciding that hiding it would do more harm than good. “Loki escaped SHIELD custody.”  
  
Darcy’s eyes popped, mouth hanging open.  
  
“Holy shit! The big bad wolf? I thought he was on Asgurt, or whatever?”  
  
“As _gard_ ,” Jane snapped. “I’ve told you this, a hundred times. And yes, it’s news to me too. So now SHIELD thinks…well, I don’t know exactly _what_ they think, but they asked me to ‘keep an eye out’,” she used air quotes for emphasis, sighing. “Sometimes I wonder…how easy would my life have been if I hadn’t followed Thor back to the hospital? Why couldn’t I just have listened to Erik?”  
  
Darcy’s face was all sympathy; she got up and walked over to Jane, patting her arm softly.  
  
“You couldn’t have known what was happening. All you knew was he had the answers you were searching for.”  
  
Jane searched Darcy’s face for sarcasm, but found none. It wasn’t often Darcy directly tried to comfort Jane about Thor. She was more of a distracting type - _let’s go see this movie, how ‘bout we try this new restaurant, another cup of coffee?_ \- was more her style.  
  
“Thank you for saying that,” she said, meaning it.  
  
“No problem,” Darcy replied, her face breaking into its usual expression: contentment. She strode back to her desk. “Now I can tell you how effing _rude_ that agent whogivesashit was. I’m composing the _worst_ review of SHIELD’s customer service. Not only did he refuse to tell me why he was calling you, but he told me he’d take me off payroll if I didn’t give the phone to you.”  
  
Jane laughed, the first time all day. “The worst review, eh? And who’s going to see it? Not like you can put it on Yelp.”  
  
“Ugh! I wish I could! Instead I’m just mass mailing it to everyone within SHIELD, including the Avengers. Eat shit, Agent Fuckass!”  
  
She hit a button on her keyboard; Jane’s email _pinged_.  
  
Jane spun around, laughing. She was ready to go back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

That evening, Jane got home from work, placing her keys into the bowl beside her door. She stretched, exhausted after another day of numbers. She felt that she was close to moving onto another stage of her project; but even with a new stage, it would only be more numbers, just different ones.  
  
Darcy had asked if Jane wanted her to stay the night, “ _you know, to protect you against the crazy brother_ ” but Jane said no. She didn’t really believe that Loki had any reason to come here. Thor and she hadn’t spoken in over two months; there was no real value in Loki coming here, especially if he wanted information. Her mind circled around and around on this logic for awhile while she prepared herself a ham sandwich for dinner, cracking open a lager. It didn’t matter that they were near Site One, the first place Thor had ever landed in New Mexico. It didn’t matter that Loki had sent the Destroyer here over two years ago. He _wouldn’t_ come here, because the only thing that _was_ here, was her, and why would he want to bother _her_?  
  
She finished up her dinner and hopped in the shower, ready for bed. She wanted to catch up on some of the sleep she missed out on from the night before. She could feel herself blushing at the thought of just what exactly she had done - she didn’t know what had gotten into her. Certainly, it had been a long time; at least six months since she and Thor had broken up. But with her dreams, especially since they were repetitive, she couldn’t figure out what they _meant_. And there was always the thought in the back of her mind that she was missing a major part of them; something always just out of reach, or on the tip of her tongue, that she couldn’t name.  
  
After her shower, she dressed into her softest pair of pajamas, climbing into bed. She wondered idly if she would have another dream - part of her hoped she would. She wanted to know who her mind was conjuring up for her in this fashion. Someone she had passed on the street, perhaps? Someone she used to know?  
  
No, probably not someone she used to know. She’d know if it was, wouldn’t she? Isn’t that how dreams worked?  
  
Shaking her head, she reached over to turn out the lamp, but a noise coming from the living room stopped her hand in its tracks. A shuffling sound, she thought, and warily, she climbed out of bed to check. She had a baseball bat resting against her dresser. Jane grabbed it, gripping it tightly, and made the short distance to the living room.  
  
Flicking the overhead light switch, the room bathed in light, she saw nothing. She went to the kitchenette, nothing. Into the bathroom, in the linen closet.  
  
Nothing.  
  
“Just your imagination, Jane…” she said under her breath, and went back to the living room to shut the light off.  
  
A book on the coffee table stopped her.  
  
She went to it, setting the baseball bat down on the ground. The book was her dog-eared copy of _Poetic Edda_ , which she hadn’t touched since Thor left. Which she was quite certain was on her bookshelf, and _not_ on her coffee table.  
  
“I meant to put that back.”  
  
The sound of the foreign voice in her space made her whip around, dropping the book. Her eyes widened as she took in the figure, the same figure she told herself wouldn’t come here. And there he was: decked out in leather and gold, looking very much out of place in her almost shabby living quarters, hair slicked back and quite longer than she remembered. Their eyes met, her frightened ones locked with his green calm ones.  
  
He was smirking.  
  
“My, do you look ever so surprised to see me.”  
  
His voice was smoother than she remembered. But the last time they spoke, he hadn’t been able to say much. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be very afraid; yet he didn’t look like anything to be afraid _of_. Sure, he was wearing weird clothes, but so did Thor, so did _all_ the Avengers, at that note. The most prominent thing standing forefront in her mind was that the two brothers couldn’t be any more different.  
  
Where Thor was light, Loki was dark. Plainly. Thor was bulky and muscular, and Loki had a sort of thin grace yet she could tell his strength was hidden, not nonexistent. She was certain he could snap her neck with one hand, if he wanted.  
  
And there it was: her fear. At that thought, her heart began to beat faster, and she bent to pick up the baseball bat.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, with much less firmness than she had hoped.  
  
Loki smiled, showing straight white teeth. Not the sort of teeth of a murderer, she thought dimly.  
  
“Jane, is this how you treat all your guests?”  
  
“Only the ones that break into my house,” Jane shot back, brandishing the bat like a pike. “Get. Out.”  
  
“Now, now. Let us talk about this. I only wanted to have a little chat. I’m not here to hurt you, you know.”  
  
Jane searched his face; the more seemingly open it was, it was increasingly harder to read. His eyes were on hers, his mouth a small smile. There was nothing nefarious that she could see within it, which made her trust him less. Thor had told her that he was a trickster, that he lied too much and denounced his family. And she knew from Thor and from SHIELD that he had attempted to rule the planet, or some such nonsense. New York was still rebuilding.  
  
Families still mourning, she was sure.  
  
“Say what you’re here to say,” she let out finally, dropping her bat to her side, her grip still tight.  
  
Loki inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward the sofa. “Let us sit, and talk.”  
  
“Fine,” she replied, taking a seat as far away from him as possible. He looked incongruous against her fading tan sofa, his leather creaking as he settled into place. He folded his hands together, resting them on his knee. He was still smiling.  
  
“I know you’re frightened by my presence,” he began, his smile fading, leaving his face with an entirely blank expression. She tried to match it: eyebrows relaxed, mouth in place. “I’m here because I have some things to explain to you that you may not like, but before I leave Midgard, I know in my heart that I must.”  
  
Jane’s eyebrows knitted together, failing her blank expression facade. She felt very nervous, her palms sweating, and wiped them on her pants slowly, in hopes that Loki wouldn’t realize what she was doing.  
  
He didn’t say anything else right away, instead apparently favoring watching her. His gaze made her feel naked, more vulnerable than she already was.  
  
“First, and bear in mind that it is against my nature to do so, I’d like to…apologize, of sorts, for startling you this evening.”  
  
Another dramatic pause; he was obviously waiting for something, acknowledgment, perhaps, but Jane gave him nothing. His mouth twitched, yet he moved on.  
  
“Secondly, I wish to discuss with you a matter of…delicate nature.” His hands unfolded, then folded again. “Your dreams, as of late.”  
  
At first, Jane was confused, and she was sure her face showed it. Then, in a strong wave of realization, she understood.  
  
Loki was the stranger in her dream.  
  
She wished she could disappear; she wished she could sink right into the couch and that Loki would leave and never come back. She was sure her face was nothing but flames.  
  
Refusing to meet his eye, she said, “You…you’ve been responsible for my dreams?”  
  
“Er…yes,” he said, in a tone of voice that suggested he found her quite lacking of intelligence. “That is what I am saying.”  
  
“So the stranger, last night…”  
  
“Not a stranger any longer, I daresay.”  
  
Jane burrowed her face in her hands, forgetting her fear, feeling instead an overwhelming sense of shame. Not only was she enjoying the dreams before last night, but _last night_ at all made her feel like she had betrayed Thor somehow; although Thor no longer held a position in her life to betray. She had to remind herself of this fact.  
  
Loki’s voice broke through her train of thought, soft and uncertain. “Are you…quite alright?”  
  
Jane spread her fingers slightly to peek at him, who was watching her curiously. She lowered her hands, brushed her hair back off her face.  
  
“What kind of question is that? You…you, _projected_ yourself into my dreams, or something. You…I don’t even have _words_ for what you did. You kissed me. You…made me feel… _things_. No. I’m not alright.”  
  
His response was quick, the sort of response that comes only from those that have rehearsed: “I don’t expect you to understand. But _I_ did not start this. I may have given you a nudge, yes, but I was simply responding to what you wanted. You called out for change, for inspiration, one night. I wasn’t actively searching for you, but I found you regardless. I showed you the place you were seeking for your Rainbow Bridge.”  
  
Jane couldn’t wrap her head around what he said, so she rounded on him. “I called out for change? For _inspiration_? When?”  
  
Loki scoffed; it was obvious this conversation was not going as planned.  
  
“Yes, Jane, you did. Your mind was reeling - while admittedly I’m not a mindreader, sometimes thoughts have a force of their own. You were battling between Thor and yourself in your dreams one night, to the extent that your thoughts trailed toward _me_ , mentally, then physically. You found fault in me, perhaps, for splitting you apart. While I wish I could take blame for that, the fault lies entirely with Thor, not I.”  
  
It was like slow motion, then: his hands came apart, one reaching over and resting on hers. The touch was warm and surprisingly pleasant, but Jane couldn’t bear it. She moved her hand away, understanding suddenly why Loki was here. His eyes stayed on the spot where their hands were for a touch too long, his face unreadable.  
  
“When you…gave me these dreams, were you…with me, physically?”  
  
His mouth twitched again at this, this time a smirk stopped in its tracks.  
  
“If you’re asking me if I was somehow inside your mind, then no. But I was in the room with you, yes.”  
  
Almost afraid to ask, but knew she must, Jane proceeded, “Then last night…?”  
  
“That is the second half of the conversation for this evening.”  
  
Jane inclined her head, mortified beyond belief but knew she must see it to the end.  
  
“In your dreams,” he said, “you were always so…content. Not like waking life, where you imprison yourself in front of that box every day, making numbers move -”  
  
“Wait, how would you know that?”  
  
“I’ve _seen_ it, Jane. I’ve been imprisoned with your SHIELD for weeks. The least I could do to prevent myself from plucking my own eyes out in boredom was project myself elsewhere. I would, at first, wander. I went to your tallest mountain, went to the bottom of your deepest sea. And then I heard you.  
  
“I don’t honestly know what drew me to you. Perhaps it was, at first, knowledge that Thor had you but saw fit to throw you away. You asked for inspiration, so I gave it to you. Your numbers are looking well, aren’t they?”  
  
At his prompt, Jane thought. Her numbers _did_ start to really come forward after the last few weeks, but she couldn’t be sure that the dreams were the reason.  
  
“They are,” she said, and was rewarded with a slight smile.  
  
“Last night was unintentional. But I do not regret it. I did put an untimely stop to it, because I did not wish for our first time together to be within a dream.”  
  
Jane hesitated at this, her heart thumping at his implication. Was Loki, Thor’s _brother_ , making a pass at her? Implying that they’d…sleep together? She had a sudden sense that perhaps this conversation had taken such a turn that this could no longer be reality. That maybe this was a dream.  
  
She pinched herself. It hurt.  
  
“Our…first time?” she finally said weakly. Barely more than a whisper.  
  
Loki inclined his head, regarding her.  
  
“It was only natural for me to think…well, given your enthusiasm, that you may be interested in satisfying your needs with me.”  
  
Not only were his words less forceful and confident than usual, Jane thought she saw something of vulnerability in his face. She was briefly taken aback; but then remembered that this man was a monster. He _killed_ people. He stalked her, apparently, and accosted her in dreams. She wasn’t afraid that he’d hurt her, exactly, but she was quite unwary not knowing what exactly he was capable of. The whole situation was too surreal for her to know how to react, so she said the only thing she could.  
  
“Thanks for the offer, but…I’ll pass. Please, if that’s all you have to say, then leave.”  
  
There was a brief hesitation on his part, now. His face, ever unreadable, was closed to her. She knew he was not about to attempt to persuade her, for which she was grateful.  
  
“If you are sure, then I shall take my leave. But just remember…if ever you change your mind, you need only say my name.”  
  
Jane blinked.  
  
He was gone.


	2. Part Two

That night, Jane tossed and turned, twisted in her sheets. She knew that Loki was gone the moment she couldn’t see him anymore: she felt a sort of lightness, of _absence_ , that she couldn’t explain. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be slightly afraid that he’d come back, that he’d _make_ her go to bed with him.  
  
The other part of her brain, perhaps the irrational one, didn’t think that was likely. If he wanted that, why didn’t he do it the night before, when she was spread open (albeit unknowingly) before him? He came before her to give her a choice. Yes or no.  
  
She’d made her choice, but still, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t shake the ethereal feeling he left her with; she felt restless, skin agitated, heart resting somewhere between her throat and clavicle. She couldn’t help but wonder, _What if I had said yes_?  
  
She tossed again, face toward the window, so far away from Puente Antiguo that there were no streetlights to leak into the room, and only rarely were there cars to listen to pass by. It was a stupid, stupid thing to consider saying yes to him. With it would only bring consequences, and secrets.  
  
Consequences because sleeping with a war criminal, or whatever SHIELD classified him as, was a one way ticket to being shunned socially, removed from payroll, and tossed out to be on her own with her work. Darcy would probably quit, find some other, more sane, scientist to work for. She’s not exactly qualified, but she has the experience now.  
  
Secrets because between the actual act and the consequences to follow, she’d have to keep her mouth shut. She’d have to lie to everyone she knew, and lying was not a strong suit Jane could say she had in her cards.  
  
She had briefly considered calling Agent Wilson, of explaining to him that she had seen Loki, that he hadn’t harmed her, that he’d only asked to fuck.  
  
Yeah. Right.  
  
She thought of his hands, then, long fingers splayed against hers. She had yanked her own away, uncertain what his touch had meant. Now she imagined what exactly those hands would feel like on her, what expression his face would yield as she responded to him -  
  
She turned, abruptly, again, squashing that thought in its tracks. She could feel her body responding to her thoughts. Dangerous thoughts, and for what reason? She didn’t know him - she only knew what he’d done. She knew he was attractive, surely anybody could see that. But to sleep with him? Out of the question.  
  
_You’re overthinking this, Jane_ , she thought to herself. _You already know you have to keep it secret…what if there were no consequences? One night, release. You’ll never have to see him again. Not only would it satisfy your craving, but after what Thor did to you, you deserve a little petty revenge_.  
  
She almost scoffed at herself. Petty revenge, indeed. But the thought had merit, and she made up her mind.  
  
And with that, she fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams devoid of space and filled with numbers.

 

* * *

 

 

The next night, Jane returned home from work, a ball of nerves. She tossed her keys into the bowl, rubbing her stiff shoulders, mind set on what she was about to do.  
  
She ate a hurried dinner - this time a TV dinner, its box covered in ice - and poured herself a shot of vodka. After showering, shaving her legs, applying lotion, blowdrying her hair and putting a hint of mascara on, she poured herself another shot.  
  
Liquid courage.  
  
How did one prepare to call a god? Was there some sort of ritual, dancing around a circle of candles, or something? She settled with lighting a single candle, placing it on the coffee table. _Poetic Edda_ was still resting on it from the night before.  
  
And, feeling rather stupid, she said as clearly as she could, “Loki.”  
  
For a moment, nothing happened. She thought that maybe she hadn’t done it right, and opened her mouth to say his name again. She saw movement in the corner of her eye. She turned, and there he was.  
  
He looked basically the same as the night before, except the leather was toned down a bit. He wore a forest green tunic, his skin almost creamy in contrast. Her stomach lurched at the sight of him; she hadn’t expected to respond to him so strongly.  
  
It was obvious that he knew why she had called him. He eyed her appreciatively; she felt her face heat at his knowing glace, but felt a small sense of pride that he found her pleasing.  
  
“You called?” he said then, his voice smooth as always. Now that Jane had accepted what she was about to do, it was easy to get lost in the sound of it.  
  
“I - I did. I…gave your offer some thought.”  
  
“Did you now?” Loki replied, obviously enjoying this. Hands behind his back, he came closer to her, stopping once he was close enough to touch, if he wanted. For the first time, Jane could catch his scent: to her, he smelled of pine, and maybe even a hint of snow. It made her heart race more, and she struggled to remember what she wanted to say.  
  
“Yes. I - I accept your offer, but on two conditions. One, that we only do this once. And two, that you never tell Thor what we’ve done.”  
  
Loki’s head tilted at her words, his hands coming from behind his back to reach for her. They rested on her shoulders, firmly, as if to say, _you’ve called me here, and here I am_.  
  
“I accept your conditions, Jane.”  
  
She had expected it to be harder than this, and had rebuttals planned in advance. But now he was simply watching her, his thumbs lightly stroking her, hands in place. The smirk that fit his face so well was showing itself again.  
  
“Oh. Well, then,” she said dumbly.  
  
She expected for him to drag her to bed, to rip her clothes off and have his way at this point. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached to cup her chin.  
  
“May I kiss you now?” he asked, his voice soft, causing her face to heat. Nobody had ever _asked_ to kiss her before.  
  
“Yes,” she replied, almost breathlessly.  
  
When his lips met hers, it was almost familiar. The kiss felt almost tender to her - instinctively, she closed her eyes, the sensation of the kiss reminiscent of her dream yet very _real_. She opened her mouth, felt his tongue, and shivered. Her body responded strongly to him; she felt the heat pooling, her heart racing.  
  
They parted, slightly breathless, looking at each other, trying to anticipate the next move.  
  
“If you wish to continue this, and I very much hope you do, I have a place in mind,” Loki said then, and Jane knit her brows in confusion.  
  
“What do you mean?” She had assumed they’d go to her bedroom; she wasn’t anticipating a trip.  
  
Loki chuckled. “It won’t take long.” He took her hands in his, squeezing slightly. “What do you say?”  
  
“Sure?” she replied, uncertain of what was about to happen.  
  
She felt a very strange feeling then, somewhere in her ears, almost like the pressure building sensation in an airplane. She closed her eyes.  
  
“We’re here.”  
  
Jane opened her eyes, the scent of this new place very different from her home. They were in what appeared to be a very well furnished apartment; or perhaps a hotel, judging by the sprinklers on the ceiling. A couch and television adorned one end, a kitchenette on the other. A hall was in sight; presumably the bedroom and bathroom were that way.  
  
“Where are we?” she asked, going to the window. Using a hand to part the curtain, she was looking down into a marina, in the heart of a large city.  
  
“You call it Seattle,” Loki replied. “I thought you’d appreciate the view.”  
  
Jane turned to look at him; he was to her side now, also looking out the window. She couldn’t help but feel slightly touched by his gesture.  
  
“Thank you. It’s beautiful. Now…”  
  
She reached out to touch him, grabbing his arm, unable to stop herself. He lowered his head, and their lips met again.  
  
This time, it was not tender, and Jane gasped as Loki bit her lip, his tongue parting her lips, hands reaching to grip her scalp. It felt _good_ , in ways she couldn’t explain. She felt her body respond to this like she had been shocked. Her hips moved of their own accord, forcing her body against his; she could feel his hardness. She ground against him, letting out a low moan.  
  
“Loki,” she gasped, parting the kiss and forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Please.”  
  
His breath was coming out in short bursts and his forehead rested on hers for a moment.  
  
“Please what?” he asked, that smirk back again. “Ask, and you shall receive.”  
  
“You know what I want,” Jane replied defiantly, face coloring again.  
  
“I don’t. You’ll have to be _very_ specific.”  
  
“I want you,” she said, after a slight hesitation. “Please…I want you now.”  
  
For a moment, she thought he was going to drag it on, continue to poke at her for a more specific response. He regarded her, his eyes dancing over her face, fingers stroking her back.  
  
“It’s a start,” he said finally. “Let us go to bed.”  
  
She followed him to the hall, into the bedroom, thinking how very _erotic_ that sounded. _Let us go to bed_. Already the difference between the two brothers was obvious. Thor was the type to race to the finish line, never taking his time; Loki was obviously drawing this out, relishing in the sensation of anticipation.  
  
Once there, Loki held his arms out, and she went to him; they kissed awhile longer, until she felt his hands trail down to the bottom of her shirt, pausing there as if in question.  
  
“Take it off,” she said, reaching to help him. She stripped herself of her shirt, the cool air causing her bare skin to erupt in gooseflesh, and reached for her pants, but he stopped her.  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
And then: she was on her back on the bed, before she knew what was happening. Loki loomed above her, hair no longer slicked back in austerity. His smirk was still there, his eyes piercing hers.  
  
“You are in the habit of rushing things, and I am not,” he said, his voice a delicious purr. “So you will lie there until I say you can get up.”  
  
Yet even more heat pooled at his command; she wished very much for relief but had a feeling that she would be rewarded for listening to him. She watched him watch her, his fingers caressing her shoulders, her arms. More gooseflesh erupted; she had to stop herself from shivering.  
  
Finally, he decided to caress her breasts, fingers toying with her nipples, making circles. Jane had never felt pleasure from this before, but this time, she could barely stifle a moan. Her hips moved involuntarily, and Loki raised an eyebrow.  
  
“So very eager,” he said. “I can’t wait to see what you do when I bury myself in you.”  
  
At his words, Jane squirmed some more, her body heating. Her skin felt like it was on fire; she needed to be touched, everywhere.  
  
“Please,” she let out.  
  
Instead of words, Loki dipped his head, sending a trail of kisses from her lips down her neck, making a languid circle with his tongue in the hollow of her throat. Jane could only breathe; she couldn’t trust herself to say anything else. The sensation of _him_ , enveloping her, was almost too much: she was hyperaware of how much she wanted him, _needed_ him, but knew that doing this was dangerous, wrong, even.  
  
Animal instinct won out again. She moaned.  
  
Loki’s kisses continued; he reached her breasts, tongue darting out sporadically, and then he reached her nipples. He started with her left one, giving it the most attention anyone had ever given both her nipples combined, circling it with his tongue, ending with a sharp nip.  
  
The incongruent feeling, pain against pleasure, caused her to jump. She didn’t cry out. She let out a pant, a strange feeling of arousal shrouding her in the aftermath of the pain.  
  
“Did you like that?” he asked, voice cutting through her thoughts. She opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and saw him watching her, cheeks slightly flushed.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
He said nothing more, but dipped his head again, to pay the same attention to her right nipple. She was expecting the nip this time, but it still surprised her slightly.  
  
She moaned this time, writhing in her place on the bed. Loki seemed ridiculously far away, he wasn’t resting on her but propped up by his knees. She wanted nothing more than to feel him pressed against her, she _needed_ to feel him inside her. She didn’t know how she’d survive if it didn’t happen soon.  
  
Loki’s hands trailed down her sides, his mouth still on her, making a path down her belly. His hands reached the waistband of her shorts, tugging slightly, teasing.  
  
“Please,” Jane gasped, wiggling her hips, grinding into the bed. He chuckled again.  
  
“Please what?”  
  
By now, she would have said anything he wanted if it meant he’d fuck her. She knew the rational part of her brain had checked out the second he put his mouth on her.  
  
“Take them off. Fuck me. Please.”  
  
At her words, he pulled down her shorts, panties with them. He threw them somewhere behind him, and leaned back slightly. She knew he was looking at her; she blushed anew at the thought, looking away. She knew how she looked to him: red faced, swollen mouth, wild eyes. Wanting him.  
  
“Jane, look at me.”  
  
She looked, meeting his eyes. He leaned forward, grabbed her hand. He put it on his cock, its hardness straining against his trousers.  
  
“This is what you do to me.”  
  
Something in his tone of voice, his words, made her burn even more. She parted her legs slightly, as best she could with his on each side of her.  
  
“Then do something about it,” she replied, her voice husky.  
  
It didn’t even cross her mind to think that him being fully clothed while she was completely naked was odd; he lowered his head again, shifting himself to be in between her parted legs, parting them more. She knew what was coming.  
  
He began by kissing her belly, fingers gripping the inside of her thighs, thumbs rubbing small circles. Usually, in another life, another time, she’d have wiggled away, said it’s not necessary, asked them if they’d like her to go down instead. But this time, she knew she’d be missing out if she did such a thing, and she also knew Loki wouldn’t allow it.  
  
The touch of his tongue to her clit sent jolts through her body, caused her head to fall back into the mattress as far as it could go. He started off slowly, making small paths along the bud, and then began the circular motion only she thought she knew so well.  
  
She was already so wound up from thinking about him all day, from his touches tonight, that she barely lasted more than a minute. She felt that twinge, that sensation of winding, and the waves settled inside her so quickly she thought it was surely a fluke.  
  
His tongue worked her, more frantically now, and she felt a finger slip inside her, she felt it crook in such a way that she could only moan.  
  
Jane came so hard she saw stars, literally, behind her eyelids. She cried out, her hips working, not caring if Loki would have a hard time keeping up with it; she rode it to the very last wave.  
  
After a few seconds, she opened her eyes. Loki’s finger slipped out, his head came up, he was watching her again. His lips were glistening, she felt fresh arousal at the sight of him.  
  
“Did you enjoy that?” he asked, the self-satisfied expression on his face making his question void.  
  
Instead of an answer, Jane grabbed his face, kissing him. She tasted traces of herself on his tongue. This time, she took control of it - pushing her tongue through his lips, gripping his scalp, his hair. For the first time tonight, she felt, more than heard, a moan escape from him.  
  
She broke the kiss, abruptly. They looked at each other for a moment; she could see his pupils, blown wide.  
  
“I think you’re a little overdressed,” she said then.  
  
He didn’t say anything back. He sat upright, removing his shirt silently, and she took in the sight of his pale skin, reflecting against the moonlight. There was something strangely intoxicating in the sight - she reached a hand out to graze her fingertips across his chest, feeling a sense of relish at the gooseflesh springing to her touch.  
  
He went to his pants, next, fiddling slightly with the tie at the waist. After it was untied, she put her hand on his.  
  
“Let me.”  
  
She raised herself up, guiding him to where she was, lowering him back. The look on his face was hard to narrow down; it was almost one of uneasiness, but a hint of excitement, too. She got the feeling he didn’t allow his bedmates to take control very much.  
  
This time, it was Jane’s turn to trail kisses down his chest, down his belly. She could feel his eyes burning into her skull, she knew he was watching her, yet instead of making her want to get it over with, as it would have in the past, it made her want to take it as slow as she could.  
  
Her fingers stalled at the waistband of his trousers; she wasn’t sure if she was asking permission or waiting for him to stop her.  
  
“Go on,” he said quietly, voice husky.  
  
She slipped his pants down, his erection springing free. She threw them behind her, to join her own.  
  
Slightly nervous, she lowered her head, placing a kiss on the inside of his hipbone. With a slightly shaky hand, she gripped his cock, the flesh feathery soft yet hard, all at once. She stroked him, for a moment, watching his eyes flutter closed. He opened his mouth, a small _ah_ sound escaping his lips. She smiled in triumph.  
  
Jane dipped her head, taking him in her mouth. Loki gripped the sheets, hips slightly jerking, but the feeling of his hand pushing her head down never came. She was all at once startled and relieved by this; and it gave her confidence to explore.  
  
Using her tongue, she swirled around and around, using her other hand to work what couldn’t fit in her mouth. She heard him cry out, for real this time, and her body responded to the sound.  
  
“Jane, ah, let’s not have this come to an untimely end,” Loki gasped, and Jane stopped, releasing him and raising her head to look at him. It was almost like looking at a different man entirely; his expression was lazy, yet she could tell he was tightly wound from the pleasure he had just received. There was a sort of lightness to him now that he lacked before.  
  
She climbed atop him, her breasts tickling his chest, the feeling hardening her nipples anew. She lowered her mouth, meeting his, the kiss hurried, feverish. Her hips rocked, his cock pinned against her stomach, the carnal feeling of his flesh against her skin heady.  
  
And again, she was on her back, the action so quick she couldn’t react.  
  
“Shall we proceed, my dear Jane?” Loki asked, voice barely above a whisper. He looked wild, but his question was not rhetorical. He was, as he had been doing all evening, giving her a choice. She knew that he would immediately stop if she said no.  
  
“Yes, Loki, please,” she responded, legs parting, inviting. She wanted him there, she wanted him in there as far as he could go.  
  
Her silent wishes were answered; after a brief kiss on the mouth, he poised himself. The room seemed to hold its breath, the hush so prominent Jane vaguely wondered if it had always been this quiet.  
  
There were no words to describe the immediate sensation of entry; the delicious stretching and surge of warmth that seemed to roll over her body in waves. She curled her toes, and slightly jerked her hips, wanting him to start, to _move_.  
  
“Jane,” he whispered, drawing himself out almost all the way, and then in a tremendous action, filling her completely again with a hurried jerk of his own hips. She cried out at the motion; her clit tingled at the contact.  
  
“Jane,” he whispered again, repeating the action. She could barely move: he was so strong, he had her pinned in place. She moaned again, the sound echoing off the walls.  
  
“Here we are,” he said, a touch louder this time. “Filled to the brim; you do not disappoint.”  
  
“Loki,” she gasped. “I’m close.”  
  
That everpresent smirk appeared again, somewhat dimmed by his own arousal. He arched his back slightly, licked his fingers, and lowered them down to her clit. It only took about ten seconds, and she was reeling, writhing, pumping her hips to meet his as she came again.  
  
He slowed, somewhat, while she recovered from her orgasm. Her body felt limp, bone-tired. She had never had sex like this before.  
  
Loki kissed her again, his hips moving languidly, the in and out motion soft and tender. His tongue brushed her lips, parted them; she met his with fervor, instinct.  
  
And without warning, he began to move, faster, his intent obvious. His skin was flushed, hot to the touch, and her overstimulated clit was in direct contact with him as he slammed in and out of her, rougher than she would have normally liked, but right now, it felt like the only way she could take it.  
  
Amazingly, at least in her hazy mind, she came again; a baby of an orgasm, but still, delicious and inebriating all the same. She felt Loki jerk slightly, his breaths in rapid pants; he let out a moan, an unintelligible word.  
  
He came then, small moans mingled in with his pants. He rode it, gripping her, burying himself deep; then he stilled, laying his head against her.  
  
For a time, they just lay there together, coming down off their natural high. Jane could feel her heart receding its pace, could feel Loki’s breaths against her chest slow. She briefly wondered what it would be like to do this all the time, and, even stranger, wondered if she had picked the wrong brother to begin with.  
  
_Stop_ , she told herself. _It was just sex. Nothing more_.  
  
Jane suddenly felt incredibly drowsy. It was dark, she was comfortable. Loki’s head was still resting on her, his hand curled around hers.  
  
She felt her eyes drifting shut, unable to stop it.  
  
Somewhere, in the depths of her sleepy mind, she thought she heard him say, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and comments appreciated.


	3. Part Three

“Hellooo, is anybody in there?”   
  
The sound of Darcy’s voice made Jane jump, her knee bouncing against her desk painfully, causing a mug of pens to topple over. The sound of pens falling to the ground, their light plastic bodies clattering, the sound of them rolling and rolling to their destinations, seemed to go on forever.  
  
“Yikes, sorry,” Darcy said.  
  
“It’s fine,” Jane replied, hurriedly ducking down to retrieve what pens she could. She cursed herself for not paying attention, to allow this to happen. She had known that Darcy was talking to her, ranting about the warning email she had received from Agent such-and-such, head of whatever-it-is department, telling her that SHIELD’s email service was not to be abused, etcetera, etcetera. Jane had drifted off into thought, the sound of Darcy’s voice becoming dimmer and dimmer, trying to understand the sequence of numbers that just weren’t quite adding up, the equation unsolvable.  
  
Her knee throbbed horribly.  
  
“What’s, like, the matter with you lately?” Darcy asked then. “You’ve been spacey. Like…more spacey than normal.” Her tone was light, but Jane could tell that she was worried. But then again, Darcy was _always_ worried about Jane, since the beginning of them working together. Worried that she wasn’t eating enough, sleeping enough; that she’d blow herself up searching for anomalies, and, more recently, that she’d never quite heal over Thor.   
  
“Nothing, really. I just didn’t sleep good last night,” Jane answered, trying to sound as natural as she could: _There’s nothing to see here, move along_.  
  
And that was the truth. She _hadn’t_ slept well last night; she hadn’t slept well for several nights, since the night that she and Loki had been together. She wished she could explain it, to herself, what this strange feeling of displacement was. It was hard enough to force herself to think of anything else - to forget him, his touch, his naked vulnerability. He had agreed to her terms: she had woken up the next day, in her own bed, no trace of him to be found.   
  
She didn’t call his name.  
  
Jane had gotten what she wanted. She had an inkling that he didn’t often let others call the shots, and he had with her, willingly, without a fight. She should be thanking her lucky stars that she didn’t invite more trouble. She told herself that he could still be watching her, breathing down her neck, sending her strange dreams.  
  
But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t, that she could tell.  
  
“It’s pretty obvious you aren’t sleeping. That’s, what, cup number five?” Darcy asked, pointing unnecessarily at the mug Jane was gripping. She didn’t know if she should be touched or startled that Darcy was keeping track of her coffee consumption.   
  
“Does it matter? I’m fine. You know I’m excited about moving on to stage three of the Bridge project. SHIELD should be thanking God we’ve gotten so far in such a short amount of time.”   
  
“They should,” Darcy said, slowly. “But at what expense? You need to take care of yourself. What’s the sense of running yourself into the ground? You won’t get to see your hard work in action.”   
  
Jane made a face. “I don’t actually want to _use_ the Bridge.”   
  
“Then why even bother?”   
  
“It’s my life’s work, Darcy. I’ve always known this was out there, a possibility. I just didn’t know _how_. Now that I do…I _have_ to do it.”   
  
Darcy stared at her. They had never talked about the project like this before - Darcy wasn’t a scientist, she was a lab assistant. She had a vague understanding of the concepts, but astrophysics were well beyond her social science degree.  
  
“Sometimes,” she said, “Conquering just to conquer isn’t the brightest idea, Jane. You’re building that Bridge for SHIELD. Have you ever wondered exactly _what_ SHIELD wants it for?”   
  
“They want to be prepared. Look at New York. Look at Sokovia.”   
  
Darcy made a noise at that, a strangled sound of disbelief.   
  
“Where did this sudden moral compass come from?” Jane asked. “Last I checked, you were only interested in the money. You never cared before.”   
  
“Yeah, well, maybe I was just thinking about how ever since Big Guy fell from the sky, you’ve never been the same. You’re suddenly willing to do whatever SHIELD asks. I remember how pissed you were at them for posting you in Tromsø. Hell, _I’m_ still pissed at them for stealing my iPod. Like, who does that shit?”   
  
Jane had to refrain from rolling her eyes. “They posted me in Tromsø because they needed me to do calibrations.”   
  
“Fuck that, Jane, and you know it. They put you there so you wouldn’t meet up with Thor. They didn’t want you to be a distraction.”   
  
The harsh tone of her voice made Jane bristle. “Or, _maybe_ ,” she said icily, “they wanted me to do the calibrations.”   
  
Darcy sighed. “Alright, Jane. They _coincidentally_ put you on the other side of the planet because they wanted some bullshit calibrations. Incidentally, Thunder God, who I will throw out there you were romantically involved with, and his crazy ass brother, were fighting neck to neck at the _exact same time_.”   
  
“Maybe they wanted to kill two birds with one stone? Ever think of that? Maybe it all happened to line up that way. I’m not about to scorn the people that may have saved my life.”   
  
“Look, Jane, you can live in your lala land of rainbows where everyone is good and selfless, but I’m here in the real world. I don’t trust SHIELD. I don’t like that ever since Thor left, it’s like you think this Bridge is gonna bring him back. You know I’m sorry he broke it off and that he hasn’t spoken to you. I know it hurts you. It hurts _me_ to see you like this. Really, all I’m trying to do is ask you to take a step back and think about this. And…maybe, get some sleep.”   
  
Jane thought she heard Darcy’s voice crack at the end; she could barely think of a reply. She felt her face heating. She wished terribly that she could tell Darcy that she hadn’t thought about Thor in days, that she was thinking about his brother instead. She wished she could break down and cry and tell Darcy exactly what had happened. How Jane had experienced something that she knew was unlikely she would ever come close to experiencing again - an intimacy inexplicable. That she could barely think of anything else: that strong desire to call his name, to see if he’d come. To take back her conditions, to take him to bed and never leave.  
  
Her state of remorse in the wake of her decision must have shown on her face, because Darcy appeared to crumple.   
  
“Oh, Jane, I’m sorry.”   
  
She heard Darcy stand up, more than saw it; her eyes were filling with tears, her world was narrowing in with that special blindness only crying brings. She felt arms around her - Darcy hugging her, tightly. Jane could smell her perfume, traces of lavender creeping through her senses.  
  
“Maybe - maybe I’m more tired than I thought,” Jane said finally, breaking the hug, once she was certain her tears were subsided. She tried to smile, contorting her face into what she was sure was only a vague impression of apology.  
  
“Would it kill you to take the rest of the day off? I’ll tell the Guys Upstairs you’re sick, if they call,” Darcy said lightly. Jane could feel the intentions pouring out of her: _Go home, go to sleep, get some rest, please say yes_.   
  
After a brief hesitation, she relented.  
  
“Alright. Yes. I’ll go home.” Then, playfully, “Keep in mind, this is the only time in your life you’ll ever see this happen.”   
  
Darcy smiled, triumphant.   
  
“See you later, boss lady.”  

 

* * *

 

 

On the way home, Jane stopped for Chinese. She was tired, but she could eat a late lunch and head straight to bed. She had no illusions about staying up, and was fantasizing about head hitting the pillow as soon as possible. But a certain kind of masochism made her dine-in, to delay her much needed rest. She sat at her favorite table, in the far back, next to a grimy window, innumerable years’ worth of dust settling causing its image to be hazy. At times, when she was feeling especially whimsical, she liked to imagine how the world would like, just like that: haze settled on everything, blurring reality.  
  
“Do you come here often?”  
  
For the second time that day, Jane jumped, this time blissfully missing the table with her already bruised knee. The voice was unmistakable; her heart began to hammer at the unexpected intrusion.   
  
“You!” she all but hissed. Before her, in the opposite seat of the two-seater table, was Loki.  
  
“Me,” he said simply.  
  
Jane quickly looked around the small space; there were no other diners, no staff nearby.   
  
“What are you doing here? What about our agreement?”  
  
She was sure her eyes were popping out of her head, but she was so tired she couldn’t find it in her heart to care. Loki’s mouth twitched as he leaned in slightly.  
  
“Our agreement is still in tact, Jane. I don’t remember a clause stating we could not see each other again, as friends.”   
  
Warily, she took him in, almost desperately soaking up every detail, heart lurching at the sight: his raven hair, perfectly slicked back; his long, aristocratic nose; green eyes, blazing in the early evening light. Her eyes danced down his neck, taking in the frame of his shoulders, the almost poetic place where the two meet.  
  
“Loki, I would have thought it was implied. You agreed we wouldn’t do it again - it should be obvious that meant we couldn’t see each other again.”  
  
“Ah,” he said, a sound more than a word, his throat working as he made it. Jane licked her lips.  
  
Suddenly, her general tso’s arrived. The steaming platter was set down in front of her, its aroma filling the entire room. Jane thanked the runner; the thought of the chicken made her throat feel like ash.  
  
“What is that?” Loki asked, as if that were the most pressing thing to ask.  
  
“It’s…general tso’s chicken,” she answered. “Er…do you want some?”  
  
If she weren’t so tired, she would have thought it likely she were dreaming. Loki, sitting in a cheap restaurant chair, asking about her chicken. He took her chopsticks, and with surprising dexterity, plucked a piece of chicken off her plate and raised it to his lips.   
  
It was obscene, the way her body reacted to this. He opened his mouth, popped the chicken in, and chewed, a thoughtful expression on his face. She had never thought it possible for Loki to appear thoughtful, and was momentarily stunned at the dissonance. Before this moment, she had only known him two ways: as the monster she was told he was, and who he was when was fucking her. She wanted to grab him, to taste the chicken he just ate on his lips.   
  
“How do you know how to use chopsticks?” she asked him then, the only thing she could think of.  
  
He let out a laugh; it seemed much larger than the room they were in. Her ears prickled.  
  
“My dear Jane, Midgardians are not the first to discover utensils.”   
  
“Oh.”  
  
He held the chopsticks out to her. She took them, forced a piece of chicken in her mouth.   
  
“You, obviously, have never truly made your own rules before,” Loki said then, seemingly randomly.   
  
She swallowed. “What?”  
  
“Just a bit ago - you stated that you _implied_ we would not see each other again. But when making up rules, when biding others to follow them, one should know that specifics are the only way to truly know one is understood.”  
  
Aghast, she could only stare.  
  
“But don’t be wounded, Jane. Remember who you’re dealing with.”  
  
He took her chopsticks from her again, picking a sizable piece of chicken up. He regarded it, put it in his mouth. That thoughtful expression returned.  
  
“It’s actually quite good. A bit sweet, yet nuanced with spice. How unique.”   
  
All Jane had to do was to ask him to leave - to say, _Please go now. I can’t bear to look at you, I can’t stand the sight of you. Not after what you did to me - opened me up, changed me. I can never have that again_.  
  
Instead she asked, “Why are you here?”   
  
Loki inclined his head, his posture shifting. His hand came out, grasped hers. A twitch of his fingers sent shivers down her arm. Her eyes were glued to the spot.  
  
“Without sounding like a bit of a cliche…I really can’t quite stop thinking about you.”   
  
His tone was serious, his expression unreadable. Jane’s heart jumped into her throat, doing somersaults, causing her breath to hitch.   
  
Instead of directly replying, she digressed. “Are you always this romantic?”   
  
He removed his hand, folded his together on the table, like a prayer.   
  
“No.”  
  
A stretch of silence elapsed then. Jane knew, without a doubt, that the ball was in her court. Loki’s eyes were on her, his expression devoid of anything tangible, yet she could swear she saw _something_ there.  
  
In the corner of her eye, she saw the front door open, heard the soft chime of a bell. Her eyes darted back to Loki.  
  
“Is there somewhere else we could talk?” she asked, somehow knowing that she was giving in by asking him this. Yet she knew that Loki being in public in Puente Antiguo was nothing short of a disaster waiting to happen.   
  
He grabbed hold of her hands again, squeezing lightly. “Of course.”

 

* * *

 

 

A blink of an eye, a slight pressure in her ears. That’s all it took to move worlds.  
  
Not _literally_ , Jane realized, as she opened her eyes, the scent of the ocean overpowering her senses. They were standing on an anonymous looking beach, waves crashing roughly against the sand, then almost lazily seeping back, trailing seaweed in their wake. The sand seemed to travel for miles, stretching and curving, far beyond the horizon. There was nobody else there, wind chill as it was. Jane could see rows and rows of weathered looking beach houses, of palm trees.   
  
“Where are we now?” she asked him. She couldn’t help but notice the way he was regarding her, as if waiting for an approval, a nod of her head in appreciation.  
  
“We are not far from a town you call San Diego,” he replied, gesturing toward the water. “And we’ve come at the perfect time.”   
  
Jane looked to where his outstretched arm was aiming toward; she realized they had caught the beginning stages of a sunset, the sun leaving vivid orange streaks of color on the blue black water. She sucked in a breath, its beauty dazzling. She had missed so many moments like this, with her head lost in the stars.  
  
“It’s beautiful.”   
  
He was close enough to touch her, she became aware of it now. She could see his hand, now resting to his side, seemingly displaced. She wanted to tell him, _you belong with me. You belong on me, in me_.  
  
Instead, she only stared at him.  
  
After a few moments, he broke the silence. “Now that we’re here…may we continue our conversation?”   
  
Jane nodded, unable to take her eyes off him. Because after he said what he needed to say, she would have to turn him down. She’d have to tell him that they could not see each other again, and she wanted to have his face memorized, skin contrasting against the sunset sky. She wanted to be able to recite him from memory.   
  
“I understand your apprehension to continue bedding me. I never asked your exact reasoning that night, because I didn’t want to put undue pressure on you. I wanted to enjoy the moments we had together and not spoil them with my own curiosity. But,” he stopped here, hesitating. He broke eye contact with her, turning again toward the sunset. It was already sinking low, darkness descending quickly. “I must admit, my curiosity has become unbearable. What are you gaining from denying yourself of pleasure? That night…is not one I’m like to forget. Why limit yourself so terribly?”   
  
Jane had anticipated his questions before she had agreed to come here with him, but she had not factored in the quality of his voice, the way it carried as if it were alive, attaching itself to her, pleading. She struggled for words.  
  
“I -” she started, uncertain what to say. The truth felt flimsy on her tongue - unrealistic, small. She went for it anyway. “I knew that if we had an…affair, we’d get caught eventually.”   
  
Out loud, the truth sounded reasonable. Loki inclined his head, and she knew he was understanding, listening. She could also see that he was thinking of rebuttals, of ways to convince her otherwise.  
  
“And how exactly would we be caught? Are you frightened that you yourself would give it away? I need not remind you that I am just as old as Thor. I have quite enough experience hiding things I need to.”   
  
She didn’t see fit to tell him that she didn’t know exactly how old Thor was.  
  
“Hmm. Perhaps that’s the _true_ problem, there. _Thor_. That which I can’t be rid of. I may be God of Lies, Jane, but I gave you my word. Thor will never find out, unless you want him to.”   
  
Jane’s breath caught in her throat. She knew he had landed on it, that although Thor was almost like a past life for her at this point, he was still so _real_. He was still out there saving people on the news and he was still on Earth. He could come back at any time, in her mind: she could wake up and he’d be there, as if nothing had ever happened between them.  
  
“Ah. Perhaps I misjudged your state of mind. For all your enthusiasm in bed, you still love him.”  
  
 _Love_. He spoke it like it were a curse word, as if he couldn’t wait to rid it from his mouth. Jane shook her head.  
  
“I never loved him, Loki.”   
  
As soon as she said it, she knew it to be true.  
  
He didn’t believe her - she could see the distrust, the dissolution on his face. There was a moment of stillness then, and Jane struggled for words. Why was it so important that Loki knew this, that he understood that Jane didn’t love Thor, never had? Didn’t she want him to believe anything it took to make him leave?  
  
“I’m serious,” Jane proceeded, ignoring her own frantic arguments in her head. “I didn’t love him. He was just…he embodied everything I had ever worked for. Ever since I was a little girl, I _knew_ there was more out there. He literally fell out of the sky. _My sky_. We had…a nice thing. But, it wasn’t _whole_.”   
  
She felt a grip on her arm, almost comforting. She heard seagulls calling.   
  
“Of course it wasn’t,” he said, not unkind. “You were of different worlds.”  
  
“And we aren’t?”   
  
“Are we?”   
  
Jane’s brow knitted in confusion. “Of course we are. You’re from the same place Thor is.”   
  
His hand fell from her arm. “I don’t mean literally, Jane. I mean simply that Thor, the _golden child_ , has never had to know what pain _really_ is.”   
  
And all at once, she understood: she remembered the desolation she had felt time and time again after presenting her rather abnormal theories - the professors and scientists laughing her out of boardrooms, banquet halls, classrooms. She knew enough from Thor that Loki was not actually his brother; he was found, abandoned, on another planet, and had adopted the Asir facade out of some strange innate coping mechanism.   
  
She remembered when Loki had turned blue before her eyes.   
  
“No, I suppose he doesn’t,” she said finally. “Not really.”  
  
“We understand each other,” Loki said, his tone taking on a new cadence. It was warm, enveloping. Jane fought against closing her eyes in pleasure. “Bear in mind that I could not be more disinterested in coercing you into something you do not wish…but I cannot help but feel that you _do_ wish, very much, but are holding back for a very poor reason indeed.”   
  
Jane’s temper flared at this.   
  
“A _poor_ reason? Which is - what? That I don’t want to be fired? I’m sorry - but sex isn’t worth the loss of my job.”   
  
“’The loss of your job’? You dare say that those pathetic fools at SHIELD control your profession? Those that have stolen from you, forced you into a position you hate?”   
  
Jane crossed her arms in defiance. “I do not hate my ‘position’. It’s exactly where I want to be.”   
  
Loki’s eyes narrowed, searching. “Please tell me you jest. You are being forced to create a Rainbow Bridge, and you do not even know why.”  
  
Bristling, she asked, “Are you trying to tell me you do?”   
  
“As a matter of fact, yes.”   
  
His pragmatic tone put Jane on edge. She stared at him, searching his face for sarcasm, for lies. She wondered, briefly, how they had gotten here. She had half a mind to tell him to take her home, to disappear after he had done so.  
  
“And what do they have planned, then, since you know it all?”  
  
He ignored her mockery. “They plan that which won’t work.”   
  
“That doesn’t answer my question, Loki,” she ground out, frustrated.  
   
“It doesn’t matter what they have planned. _It will not work_.”   
  
Arms still crossed, Jane turned away from him and his harsh tone; it was true dark now, moon huge and sombre in the night sky. She saw Mercury, Jupiter. She saw the Big Dipper, its arm reaching, never grasping. She wanted to cry.  
  
“Maybe it’s time I went home,” Jane said then, slowly.  
  
“Is that what you want?”   
  
She could hear the waves, but could barely see them. They crashed and crashed, took and took. She wanted to wade into the water, to reach the dip in the floor. She wanted to feel the brine, to taste it.  
  
She should have said yes, she should have. But instead she said, “No.”  
  
It was sudden, the sensation of _feeling_. She felt her body being enclosed; she felt arms around her, breath on her neck. There was something terribly sensual about it all - the beach was theirs, her heart was in her mouth.  
  
“Jane, I…”   
  
It was irrational, her body. The rush in between her thighs, her breath in her throat. His scent pervaded her; the snow and pine discordant against the backdrop of waves and palm trees swaying. She stifled a cry.  
  
And because she couldn’t say anything else, she whispered, “Loki.”  
  
His mouth was fluid, warm. She kissed him back, feverishly, as if it were her last kiss, her last contact. Her arms searched his body, gripping, trailing. He grabbed her hair: she gasped, moaned, into his mouth.  
  
“Loki -”   
  
She was cut off by his tongue; it explored her mouth, tactile, effortless. She moaned into his mouth, her body shuddering as if on impact.  
  
And then, all at once, he pulled away, slightly breathless. His hand trailed her cheek, eyes searching hers.  
  
“I apologize,” he whispered. “I should not have done that.”   
  
He let go of her. The absence of his warmth made Jane feel very small.  
  
“Why? Did you change your mind?” She thought her voice sounded hollow, thin.  
  
He let out a harsh laugh. “No. I would never change my mind about _that_. But I didn’t ask to kiss you.” She wanted to yell at him - _but you_ have _to kiss me_ \- but she didn’t. “The irony here is that I never apologize, but have done so twice in your presence.”  
  
He turned to watch her, his eyes glinting in the dark. She stood very still.  
  
“Please kiss me,” she said then, voice wavering. She felt the weight of her words, understood she was backing out of her own agreement, yet found it difficult to care.  
  
His body shifted, he was closer to her, his face close enough that all it would take was an incline, a small step.   
  
“Are you certain?”   
  
“I’ve never been more certain about anything.”  
  
At her words, she knew he believed her. He gripped her face, softly, and kissed her briefly. Disappointingly, that was all he did - he drew away, the beginnings of a smile dancing across his face.  
  
“Not to presume anything, but…I have another place in mind than here. It’s farther than we’ve gone before.”  
  
Jane knew his implications, obvious as they were. She knew he was giving her another choice - yes or no.   
  
She smiled. “Let’s go.”


	4. Part Four

She was getting used to the feeling - the pulling, the _moving_. She opened her eyes, seeing Loki’s own, watching her.  
  
They were in a plain sort of room; a small lamp on next to a bed with blankets and quilts. The walls were wood paneled, a single painting hanging above the bed, red-orange mountains against a blue sky. She turned to the window and parted the heavy curtains.  
  
It was dark, _true_ dark, the kind of dark you didn’t see unless you were far enough away from a city or town that its lights didn’t pollute the sky. She saw snow, too, and felt startled at the sight - it was October. Pine trees reached up, their tips touching the night sky, and she felt a slight hush at the expanse of it before her: she could pick out constellations she couldn’t even see in New Mexico, and she turned to Loki.  
  
“Where are we now?” she asked, practically feeling his mirth reaching out to her.  
  
“A quiet hamlet, about an hour away from a place called Anchorage.”  
  
“How…do you know about all these places?”  
  
She tried to imagine what she’d do with a power like this. She could go anywhere, anytime. She’d never have to rely on anyone else - she’d never be restrained to a schedule.  
  
“I just do,” he replied, moving toward her. Prowling. “I can’t explain it. It’s just knowledge that I have.”  
  
She felt a wave of excitement at the expression on his face, the stance of his body. He was very close to her now, she could see his chest rising and falling, see the hollow of his throat. She reached out to touch him.  
  
“Kiss me now. Take me to bed. I’m yours.”  
  
Loki swallowed, pupils dilating. Black against green, he leaned forward.  
  
Their lips met, hurriedly, and she felt his hands grab her ass, pushing her against him, grinding. The sensation sent a shock of pleasure - she could feel the heat surging through her. She groaned, a guttural sound against his lips; she felt him growing harder.  
  
It was very quickly that their clothes came off, as if there was an unspoken agreement that there was a need to be satisfied as soon as possible. She heard fabric stretching, the zipper of her own slacks being undone. She felt air against her body as she was being stripped, her own hands working the buttons of his shirt, the tie of his pants.  
  
When their clothes became a crumpled pile on the floor, they stared at each other. His eyes took her in, cheeks slightly flushed. This time, she let him, unabashedly. She felt a hand graze her back, felt herself shivering despite the heat she felt.  
  
“You are perfection,” he whispered in her ear, then lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing her there. She felt his tongue.  
  
“Fuck,” she muttered, clenching her thighs together. She closed her eyes, unable to think of anything else but his mouth, that central spot of heat on her neck.  
  
“Gladly,” he said against her skin.  
  
They were on the bed then, a swift, agile movement on his part. She could feel the coarseness of the quilt, cool from disuse. She reached out, blindly, grabbing him, pulling him toward her, mouth finding his. She could feel his cock pressing against her belly, warm and hard.  
  
She felt him draw away, sitting back. She saw mischief on his face, but couldn’t decipher why.  
  
“Spread your legs, Jane,” he said, voice husky.  
  
She felt herself blush, not understanding the command.  
  
“Don’t be shy. I want to see your pretty cunt.”  
  
Her heart began to thump at his filthy words - they sent a jolt of heat straight toward the area in question. She spread her legs then, slowly, baring herself before him. He licked his lips.  
  
“Yes,” he said, not quite a hiss. “Now…touch yourself.”  
  
She didn’t think she could get any hotter.  
  
“W-what? Why?”  
  
“I want to see you pleasure yourself. I want to see the expression on your face as you work your cunt. I want to see your fingers reaching, as deep as you can take them.”  
  
At his words, her breath hitched, excitement dancing in her veins. She wanted to do it - she wanted him to see her doing it. Again. He was watching her, expectantly.  
  
Timidly, she brushed her hands down her sides, across her belly. Her skin felt warm from her arousal. She went lower, reaching her mound, hesitating.  
  
“Don’t stop.”  
  
The sound of his voice pushed her forward, one hand spreading herself, fingers from the other landing on her clit. The tendrils of pleasure made her moan as she began to circle it, finding rhythm.  
  
She continued for a few moments, the pleasure mounting. The fact that he was watching her amped the feeling exponentially.  
  
Seeing movement in the corner of her eye, she looked at him. He was gripping himself, almost lazily pumping his cock. The sight was beyond erotic: she moaned again, two fingers dipping inside herself, the fullness exquisite.  
  
“Come for me, Jane,” he said, voice strangely pitched. She could see the restraint on his face, the desire for her evident.  
  
His words unraveled something within her, something she wasn’t quite aware she was holding. She sped her pace, fingers working, orgasm approaching. She cried out, her walls clenching, hips jerking, the waves seemingly coursing over her entire body. When it was over, she slumped against the bed, panting slightly.  
  
She felt the bed shifting; opening her eyes, she saw him laying next to her, hand brushing against her arm, eyes expressive. She leaned forward, slightly awkwardly, to kiss him.  
  
“Are you recovered?” he asked, once they broke the kiss.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
His lips curled into a sort of smirk. He raised himself up, hovering over her.  
  
“I want you,” he said. As if in response, she parted her legs again. Silently, she reached between them, gripping his hardness, guiding it toward her center.  
  
“I’m yours,” she told him, not exactly knowing what she was saying. Her entire world right now was this bed, this moment. “Take me.”  
  
With a soft groan from each of them, she felt him enter her, fill her up. She shifted her hips, urging him deeper, wanting that harsh moment, that pinch that told her he could go no further. She felt his breath on her neck, her shoulder. She gripped her arms around him, tightly, unwilling to let go.  
  
“God, Loki,” she gasped.  
  
“Yes?” he asked, an almost wicked quality to his voice. She could hear the struggle in it, the restraint.  
  
“I need to feel you move.”  
  
His hips began to jerk so abruptly at her words that she cried out. She matched his pace, meeting him with every thrust, dimly aware that she had never been this in sync with anyone before. The feeling of him inside her, his hips meeting hers, caused her blood to sing.  
  
Her hands gripped his raven hair, pulling his face toward hers. She bit his lips, felt his breath. The completeness was indescribable - she arched her back, wanting more, wanting something she couldn’t name - and he gripped her tighter.  
  
He was going hard, fast. She could feel the beginning flutters of another orgasm; it was quickly approaching yet needed more to bring her there. She reached a hand down to circle her clit, but his own hand stopped her.  
  
“Not yet,” he said. He slowed his pace drastically, almost coming to a standstill. With expertise, he gripped her, turning the two of them so he was on his back, and she was on top of him. “I want to see you come like this.”  
  
How did he know exactly what to say to amp up her arousal? She felt how deep he was, and sighed with contentment she didn’t know she felt. She began to move, lifting her hips, taking control. Her hands were spread out on his chest, her breaths ragged.  
  
“Jane,” he said, his voice reverent. His hand reached, finding her clit. His fingers circled there, causing her to cry out. Her movements sped up, urging his fingers to do this same. She was taking him as deep as she could, the sharp pain mixing with pleasure creating such a heady concoction she couldn’t stop herself from gripping his chest, assuredly leaving marks.  
  
“I’m coming!” she all but yelled, unable to cope with the force of the sensation. She could hardly understand how someone could make her feel _so much_.  
  
After it subsided, she groaned, leaning into his chest, allowing him to use his hands to guide her hips up and down. She could feel the jolts of sensitivity as his body slapped against her, and she stifled a moan.  
  
She became aware of him moving her, faster and faster, yet not harshly. She raised her face to look at him, to see lust in his face. She was startled to find tenderness there too, mixed in with his desire.  
  
She kissed him, moving her hips again, knowing he was close. She could feel his breath shuddering, feel slight moans on his lips.  
  
“Ah,” he gasped. “Close.”  
  
Jane ground her hips down, taking him roughly, a gasp escaping her lips. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to _make_ him come. She worked him quickly, swiveling her hips, body aflame at the knowledge that she was making him lose control.  
  
He met her pace, a sudden groan escaping him. Then he gripped her hips, tightly, and she knew he was coming. She could feel his cock pumping inside her, his lips clasped to hers, biting. She tasted blood.  
  
Afterwards, he lay back, releasing her. She slipped off of him, rolling next to him, catching her breath. Her body was coming down off of its high; she wondered if he regretted coming here now that he had satiated his lust. She wondered if she regretted coming here, too.  
  
“Jane,” Loki said, softly. His head reached to grip hers, bringing it to his mouth. She felt the faintest of kisses on it.  
  
She was taken aback at his tenderness, remembering the look on his face as she rode him. There was something still so uncanny about this version of him: so disparate from the man Thor, the news, SHIELD had painted. She searched his handsome face, looking for a monster there.  
  
“Why me?” she asked him.  
  
He hesitated, then said, “I could be asking you the same question.”  
  
“We…fit. In a way I didn’t know was possible.” Her voice was quiet, as if afraid someone would hear.  
  
His arm reached for her, pulling her close. He kissed her head, his body warm and comforting.  
  
“I would very much like to continue this, Jane. Nobody need ever know. I can take you anywhere you wish.”  
  
His declaration caused her to remember something. “I thought you said you were leaving Earth?”  
  
“I had planned to,” Loki replied, giving off the air of one that is choosing words very carefully. “And I still intend to.”  
  
“And? You can just…jump planets whenever you want?”  
  
“It’s not that simple, no. But…” She felt his fingers grazing her skin. Her eyes closed at the contact. “You are invited to come with me.”  
  
She drew away from him then, sitting up slightly. “You’re asking me to…leave Earth? To go where?”  
  
He blinked at her. “Another of the Nine Realms, of course.”  
  
Jane knew her face was full of apprehension. What he asked was crazy, and certain to raise alarm to everyone she knew.  
  
“It wouldn’t be a secret if I went with you, Loki. Everyone would know I was gone. Darcy, my mom. They’d flip.” And unspoken: Thor.  
  
“They’d know you’re gone, yes. But not to where.” A beat of silence, then, “Is this not your dream? To see the places you’ve always dreamed of - not only Asgard, but the others, too? I can take you there. We can make love under stars you’ve never seen, you can see worlds you can’t even imagine. We can be _free_.”  
  
His words hit a spot she didn’t know existed inside her. She stared at him, a crazy part of her wanting to say yes, that she’d go anywhere he led her.  
  
He saw that he almost had her. “At the very least, say that you’ll think about it. Think about this life you have, and what you seek. And then give me your answer.”  
  
“I’ll - I’ll think about it,” she said. She laid back down, curling close to him again. She didn’t want to ask the obvious question, to ask how long he’d wait before he grew tired of waiting. She didn’t want to spoil the mood. She felt her heart fill up, stretch. She was exhausted after today, after her sleepless nights.  
  
“Go to sleep, my dear Jane. I will be here when you wake.”  
  
His voice was soft; it convinced her. She remembered nothing else.

 

* * *

 

 

When Jane awoke the next morning, it was to intense disorientation - and not, she presumed, because she had traveled thousands of miles within mere seconds, but because she had slept through the night for the first time in months.  
  
She knew before she even opened her eyes that she was in her own bed - she could feel its familiarity, the warmth somehow welcoming her back. She lay like that, for a time, simply enjoying the sensation of comfort.  
  
The sound of breathing stilled her.  
  
Opening her eyes, the black hair poking out from under her comforter brought it all back - _I will be here when you wake_ \- and her heart stuttered, she was sure of it. She turned, lightly, trying not to wake him. Pulling the comforter slightly down, she had clear access to his face.  
  
Always, when viewing someone who is asleep, one gets such a different image of who they present themselves awake. Loki was no different - his face was relaxed in a way she didn’t think possible, his mouth a mild curve, a ghost of a smile. She wondered if he was dreaming. She wondered if he was dreaming of her.  
  
  
She couldn’t help herself - she reached out to touch him, to brush his hair back from his face. His eyelashes fluttered, he inhaled sharply.  
  
She drew back, watched him stretch. A soft _nm_ sound came from his throat. She was truly startled at how very _human_ he seemed.  
  
“Jane,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to look at her.  
  
“Loki,” she said back.  
  
He propped himself up, covers slipping off, puddling around his waist. Jane swallowed, eyes flickering over the pale expanse of exposed skin.  
  
“You stayed,” she said then, a rather obvious thing to point out given the circumstances, but needed to fill the silence with something.  
  
He smiled, almost sheepishly, reaching out to brush fingers across her cheek.  
  
“I always keep my promises.”  
  
“Somehow, I don’t believe that’s entirely true,” she replied, sitting up as well, slightly self-conscious as the air hit her naked breasts. His eyes dropped to the obvious place, expression darkening.  
  
She knew that look quite well by now. She didn’t cover herself back up.  
  
“I need a shower,” she said then. And, with a certain kind of nervousness, added, “You’re welcome to join.”  
  
It was heady, the feeling of his eyes on her as she got out of bed, made her way to the bathroom. Her own brashness aroused her; made her feel like someone she had never felt like before. She didn’t really have to question if he’d follow her or not.  
  
After a few moments in the warm stream of water, she felt, rather than heard, Loki enter the shower. His fingers, cool against her back, trailed down, stopping halfway down. She turned, meeting his gaze, emboldened by his presence.  
  
He was half hard already, and the sight of him sent a fresh wave of arousal through her body.  
  
“Come here,” she said. “Get warm.”  
  
He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her, water streaming down on both of them. His eyes were on hers, searching, the green so pronounced she suddenly felt that there was no other color more beautiful than that. She briefly wondered just what about this was so intoxicating, but his mouth on hers stilled her thoughts. She shuddered, gripping him, as his tongue parted her lips, slipped inside.  
  
They parted, slightly breathless, and Jane smiled.  
  
“Let’s get clean.”  
  
He beat her to the body wash on the rack, put some in his hands.  
  
“Allow me,” he said, and began to wash her, his hands gliding over her body, the sensation sending shivers through her. She allowed him to do this for a moment, head tilting back in pleasure.  
  
She wasn’t expecting the fingers parting her slit, exactly, but her mouth opened when it happened, a slight groan escaping. She opened her eyes, watching him, not at all surprised to find his eyes trained on her as two fingers landed on her clit, his other hand gripping her ass.  
  
“I’m going to make you come, Jane,” he said, voice low, sending electric jolts through her, hitting her exactly where his fingers were stilled. “And then I am going to turn you around and bury myself in you. Would you like that?”  
  
“Yes,” she gasped, surprised at the ferocious effect his words had on her.  
  
Expertly, without hesitation, his fingers began to move over the sensitive nub, and Jane could only stand there and _feel_. She parted her feet slightly, feeling the tendrils gripping and gripping, knowing she was reaching her destination soon. Loki’s other hand left her backside, and slid a digit inside her. She moaned, the sound bouncing off the tile, hardly able to keep herself still, wanting more than anything to feel him inside her, hips thrusting her to completion.  
  
“You’re so close,” he whispered in her ear. She felt him bite her earlobe, let it go.  
  
How he knew that, she couldn’t be sure, but he added another digit, stretching her more, the feeling in combination with the rhythm on her clit was enough to send her over the edge, the waves quickly approaching. She gripped him, fingers digging into his back.  
  
He kissed her at exactly the moment she came, and she cried out into his mouth, unable to do much else. Her head was swimming in the acute pleasure, entirely forgetting for a moment that they were in the shower.  
  
The satisfaction on his face was absolute, and he didn’t wait long before gripping her, turning her toward the wall of the shower, and his hands guided hers up to rest against the tiles. They slipped under her fingers, and she could feel him leaning against her, his cock pressing against her ass, hard and warm. He kissed the side of her neck roughly, and she could feel him part her feet further with his own. She could hardly stand the apprehension; she was coming down from her orgasm but this position, the anticipation, turned her on anew.  
  
“Are you trying to torture me?” she asked then, startled at how pleading she sounded.  
  
“Of course not,” he replied, but his tone of voice said the complete opposite - in irritation and impatience, she wiggled her hips, grinding against him, and felt victory as she heard his breath hitch, even over the sound of the stream of water.  
  
“Fuck me, Loki.”  
  
She could feel him breathe into her skin, his lips somewhere close to her neck where he had kissed her.  
  
A hand left her wrist, she felt his hips move slightly, felt his length against her entrance. She could feel how wet she was even from this position, felt how easily he entered her, how her body seemed to welcome him all the way in. She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, and his stray hand went back to her wrist, binding her in place.  
  
“You feel so perfect,” he whispered, and Jane was taken aback at how quiet this moment felt, how still the world seemed. She felt an expansion in her chest, a sort of bubble that seemed to form. It scared her, so she moved her hips slightly, forcing friction where they were joined.  
  
That was all it took, and Loki began to move, fiercely pumping her, hands gripping her writs roughly. She cried out at the sheer force of it all - it wasn’t that it hurt, exactly, but she could feel the passion he was exerting, as if his  movements were attempting to speak actual words to her. It was sensual in that Jane had never felt anything like it before - she could only meet his thrusts, feel the now cooling water hitting them, feel _him_.  
  
She could feel the coils again growing within her, gripping. She let out another moan, tried to move her wrist.  
  
“No you don’t,” Loki said wickedly, his own hand reaching down, finding her clit, circling.  
  
It was spectacular, the sudden release. She tried to grip the tiles with her hands, knew she couldn’t. She cried out, resting her forehead against the wall, his body slamming into her back, the movements speeding up.  
  
He came then, hands dropping to grip her hips, fingers digging while he let out several short moans into her ear. She could feel his release as his thrusts slowed to almost a standstill, could hear his shuddering breaths.  
  
When it was over, he released her, sliding out of her. She turned around, taking in his flushed cheeks, bright eyes.  
  
She said the first thing that came to mind.  
  
“I think I’m late for work.”

 

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Comments and thoughts appreciated!  
_


	5. Part Five

Steeling herself, Jane got out of her car and flashed her badge at the bored looking security guard at the front desk. He waved her through, as he did every day. She checked her phone again - no more calls or texts from Darcy, who had sent her a rather worrisome text message just before she left her house that only said _You need to get here like five minutes ago_. Jane was _never_ late, but she didn’t exactly have anyone to answer to, either. Darcy’s text could mean that she was either very bored or that they had received a visitor from some high-up within SHIELD. Jane’s paranoid mind of course picked the latter scenario to fixate on.  
  
At the set of doors that blocked herself from the other half of the building, she stopped so the retina scanner could grant her access. The familiar _beep_ of entry sounded, and she stepped through the doorway once the doors cleared.  
  
Her lab was not locked in any way, and in fact the door was propped open, which was not usual. She pushed it open all the way, and her eyes found Darcy, who was sitting at the lunch table with a man she didn’t recognize.  
  
Darcy saw her before the man did, looking as if she had just been saved from an absolute death.  
  
“Jane! Finally!”  
  
The man turned his head slowly to watch her as she went to meet them at the table.  
  
Up close, Jane realized this man was not a scientist or even from this building. He had cold, deep set gray eyes and closely cropped brown hair. His crisp black suit suggested that if he worked for SHIELD then he probably was based in New York, maybe Los Angeles. Nobody dressed like that around here, not even office managers.  
  
“Doctor Foster. How kind of you to join us.”  
  
He spoke with his teeth, barely moving his lips, an arrogant expression on his face. Jane recognized his voice - it was Agent Wilson, the one who called her last week about Loki, when he had escaped. At this realization, her heart went into overdrive, her mouth turning dry.  
  
_This_ is why she wanted to say no - why she knew it was a stupid idea to ever get involved with Loki.  
  
She was going to have to lie.  
  
“Agent Wilson?” she said finally, trying to keep a steady control over her voice. Her eyes flicked to Darcy, who was staring at her, a look of concern on her face. She knew Jane well enough to know her tells.  
  
“Ah, you remember me. So introductions aren’t needed.”  
  
She didn’t like the tone in his voice - as if he had a secret. As if he were enjoying her obvious discomfort.  
  
“Yes, I remember you. What can I do for you?”  
  
His hands, which were carefully folded together in front of him, broke apart so he could reach into his pants pocket - he pulled out a phone, unlocked it. After a few taps, he handed it to her.  
  
“What you can do for me is decipher this data.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
She reached for the phone, which was opened into a document, with spreadsheets, charts, graphs. Mathematical equations that reflected very familiar, yet not quite the same, frequencies that she recognized. There were coordinates as well, but the names of locations were not listed. She swallowed, heavily, knowing she was trapped but not entirely sure how.  
  
Wilson was waiting, his mouth twitching. Impatience written all over his face.  
  
“Well,” she began slowly, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say this looks like a series of anomalies.”  
  
He nodded and took the phone back, a strange look of triumph on his face.  
  
“You aren’t wrong. They _are_ anomalies.”  
  
A still silence followed. Jane looked at Darcy again, who looked just as confused as she was.  
  
“Then…are you here because you want me to work them out?”  
  
Wilson laughed, a harsh bark of a sound that seemed to eat up the entire room. Jane flinched.  
  
“No, Doctor Foster. We don’t need you to do that, because we’ve already done it.”  
  
She felt a surge of anger at his words, knowing full well the only reason why SHIELD could do such a thing at all was because of her - because of their access to her work.  
  
“Why are you here?” Jane asked, fear kicking in fresh. She had a strong suspicion that she knew exactly what those anomalies were.  
  
There was a small beat of silence in which Wilson and Jane simply stared at each other. Jane gave him her best poker face, refusing to show him the fear and apprehension she could feel mounting within her.  
  
“I’m here to arrest you, Doctor Foster.”  
  
“What?!” Darcy yelled suddenly, indignation in her voice. “What the fuck, dude?”  
  
Jane jumped back, his words cutting through her, branding her.  
  
Wilson stood up, crooked his fingers at the door. Three men entered, one holding a set of handcuffs.  
  
“Arrest me?” Jane squeaked. The man with the cuffs came forward, and Wilson spun her around, gripping her hands behind her back, so the handcuffs could be slipped on, locked. Jane felt numbed, dazed by what was happening. She barely felt the cuffs click around her wrists.  
  
“Yes, Doctor Foster,” Wilson replied, his look cold and calculating; he was far too close to her for her comfort. “We have reason to believe that you are harboring or have explicit whereabouts of the war criminal, Loki. Your confirmation of the anomalies only reinforces what we already know. You will be escorted to a SHIELD base in New York, where you will be held for questioning. Maybe you can come to a nice little agreement.”  
  
“Jane? What are they saying? He can’t be serious?” Darcy’s voice was panicked. “C’mon, Mr. Agent, this is a huge misunderstanding, obviously.”  
  
“I would very much like you to _shut up_ ,” Wilson spat at her, and Jane flinched at the venom in his voice. She forced the panic to subside within her, forced her voice into a normal pitch.  
  
“Darcy, just…just don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out. I’ll explain everything to you when I can. I promise.”  
  
She then allowed herself to be led away from the scene of the worst moment of her life, leaving a gaping Darcy behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

Jane lost track of time. She felt the sharp pangs of exhaustion, the pinpricks of chill. It wasn’t to say that the room they put her in was particularly cold - it was fine, as far as cells go - but her fear had eaten all her warmth away.  
  
It was at least a day since Agent Wilson had taken her from Puente Antiguo; the privet jet was waiting for them at the regional airport that they didn’t have to wait in line for, they just drove right up to it, and Jane was escorted on. They never took her handcuffs off, not even when she had to use the bathroom. The guards tasked with transporting her barely spoke a word to her at all the entire miserable flight.  
  
She was checked into the new SHIELD base like an honest to god prisoner - she had to squat and cough - and she had never felt more _humiliated_ in her entire life. She wanted to find it in herself to hate Loki for this, but she knew he couldn’t have foreseen it. She hadn’t, and she was the damned scientist who knew that magic left traces, had invented the software to read them.  
  
What was she thinking?  
  
They had deposited her into her cell, a plain white room with a small twin sized bed and a chair by a barred window, and left her there without a word. She immediately had gone to the window, trying to see. All she saw was wired fence, could practically feel it humming with electricity. A forest stretched beyond, the colors of autumn startling. Maybe two or three hours after they had put her there, a plain-clothed man entered the room with a tray of food, placing it on her bed and leaving as silently as he came. Soup and toast, and a tall glass of water. She hadn’t touched it.  
  
And now, she sat in the hard chair, contemplating her options. Wilson had said they had suspicions she was harboring Loki - ridiculous in its own way, and she was sure by now they would have searched her home and found no trace of that - or that she knew where he was. That, she didn’t know either - he _disappears_ , for god’s sake - but it was possible that she could potentially argue this. She could come up with a lie, she could tell them he had come to her, demanding whereabouts of Thor, or something, but she couldn’t give it to him. The end.  
  
And, if she were ever free of this, she would stay away from Loki. It was plain that he was not intending to help her; she rather thought he would have done so already if that were in his plans. He probably skipped out, left Earth. Went to where he had originally planned to go.  
  
The thought left her feeling slightly desolate, terribly alone. She had half a mind to call his name, but knew this room was bugged. She couldn’t risk making herself look any more guilty than she already was.  
  
She heard a noise outside the door to her cell, a metallic scraping sound. The door opened, revealing none other than Agent Wilson, accompanied by a woman she hadn’t seen before, at least in person. She recognized her as Natasha Romanoff, the one they called the Black Widow. She could almost understand why - her expression was harsh and unreadable, black leather creaking as they both stepped inside, obviously ready to strike, if needed. She had a shock of short red hair contrasting against her pale face, eyes unreadable. Jane shrunk back in her chair. Limited knowledge as hers was, she knew Romanoff’s skill-set and didn’t want it anywhere near her person.  
  
“Doctor Foster,” Wilson said, once the door was shut and firmly locked. Romanoff held back, arms crossed, hovering. He knelt down so he was level with her, and smiled at her, fake and twisted. “Welcome to our humble base in upstate New York. Are you enjoying yourself?”  
  
Jane had a sudden wild desire to spit in his face.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
The smile dropped immediately, replaced with something much more sinister. He stood up, clasped his hands behind his back.  
  
“You know, your friend Loki was in this exact room when we had him.”  
  
Jane stayed silent, refusing to respond to this obvious attempt to goad her.  
  
“When he escaped, he murdered the guard outside his door.” A stark silence followed his words, which were spoken without inflection, without remorse. “Such a pity. He was a nice guy. He had kids.”  
  
At this, Jane’s brow knit; she knew he was trying to manipulate her, to make her talk. She wondered if he was lying. His impassive tone suggested that it was likely, and Loki never mentioned anything of the sort - but, if she were to be honest with herself, she barely knew Loki at all, and what she did know was that he could kill. He _had_ killed.  
  
Wilson continued, breaking her line of thought. “Just went to his funeral the other day.”  
  
“What do you want?” Jane asked again, wishing he’d stop. “I don’t have him. I don’t know where he is.”  
  
Wilson didn’t immediately reply to her; he simply watched her. She could feel Romanoff’s eyes on her, too, and her face burned.  
  
“You know,” Wilson said again, “Thor was very disappointed when we told him.”  
  
Jane’s heart lurched, an intrusive feeling amidst her cloud of anger. Her fingers gripped the chair seat, she swallowed. She refused to fall for this bait, especially since she had already told them the truth.  
  
“Doctor Foster, if you cooperate, things will be much easier for everyone,” Romanoff said, her voice so different than what she imagined it would be. It was almost soft.  
  
“I _am_ cooperating,” Jane retorted. “I honestly, _really_ have no idea where he is.”  
  
Wilson sighed theatrically. He turned to Romanoff, shrugged.  
  
“I guess we’ll let you think about it for now,” he said. “The next time we come to talk, I hope for all our sake’s that you have more to say.”  
  
They went to the door, Wilson pounded on it. It was opened, and Jane watched them go. Romanoff stopped, just at the door, to look at her.  
  
“We won’t stop, until we get what we need,” Romanoff said, not harshly. “Protecting him will get you nowhere.”  
  
She left, and the door shut firmly behind her. Jane held her head and in her hands.

 

* * *

 

 

It was sometime in the middle of the night, after she had fallen into a fitful sleep, that Jane was awoken by the feeling of a hand against her mouth. Her eyes snapped open in shock and she tried to jump up, but the force of the hand held her down.  
  
It was Loki.  
  
“Jane, Jane, _shh_ ,” he whispered. “Don’t scream.”  
  
Her breathing was loud and heavy, but she nodded, and he removed his palm. She sat up, disbelief across her face.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “ _How_ did you get here?”  
  
“Your technologies can’t stop me from going where I wish,” he answered hurriedly. “But we must go. I’ve come to take you from this place.”  
  
Jane shrunk back, bumping into the wall. She shook her head.  
  
“I can’t. Loki, I think they know everything. They know exactly where you go and when. They track the magic you use. I can’t go because they’ll find me. And you.”  
  
“Where I intend to take you, they can’t follow.”  
  
His implications were clear - _You’re asking me to…leave Earth? To go where?_ \- and she felt a small pang of hope, despite herself. It wouldn’t have to be a permanent solution. It could be temporary; she could then come back, go somewhere else, into hiding. She struggled with the knowledge that she was now the sort of person that would have to go into hiding - and she was looking at the reason why.  
  
“Loki, I -”  
  
“Jane. We don’t have time. I’ve blocked them from seeing and hearing what happens in this room, but it’s only a short while before they come to investigate. If only for awhile, come with me. These people have no intentions of being kind to you.”  
  
She knew he had never intended this to happen; she could see it plainly on his face. And she went into this…relationship, or whatever it was, knowing full well the danger of it. She took his hand.  
  
“I’ll go. For only a little while.”  
  
He squeezed her hand, placed a brief kiss to her lips.  
  
“I’ll always protect you, Jane. Now close your eyes.”  
  
It was the sudden change in temperature that made her open her eyes this time, not the pressure in her ears. She was somewhere, outside, and it was frigid. Her body immediately began to shake with cold; Loki had released her hands and turned his back to her. It was still dark wherever they were, but she could see the beginnings of light reaching from the horizon - she marveled at it, for a moment, before honing in on him.  
  
“Where are we?” she asked, her breath misting in front of her. She reached for him, needing his warmth, and he turned.  
  
“Oh. You’re cold.”  
  
A wave of his hand - something she hadn’t seen before, and noted how controlled it looked - and her body was enveloped in warmth.  
  
“Mount Ulriken. That’s where we are. The portal is close, but I need to know you’ll stay right behind me. Don’t wander.”  
  
Dazed, Jane nodded at him. So they were in Norway - and her eyes began to adjust to the pre-dawn dimness, taking in the trees, rocks, grass. She began to follow where he led her, deciding that any questions she may have can wait until they reach their destination.  
  
She knew Norway had much significance to Thor and Loki; she had read _Poetic Edda_ enough. She wondered exactly what Loki meant by _portal_ , but figured it would only be a matter of time before she found out.  
  
She wondered how long they had until SHIELD realized she was missing, before they figured out where they were.  
  
After about ten or fifteen minutes, and just when Jane thought she couldn’t take anymore hiking through brambles and rocks, Loki stopped. She peered around his arm to see what he was looking at.  
  
“We’re here,” he said, gesturing toward a giant boulder. Her eyebrows raised, unable to understand what exactly she was looking at. “I’ll hold you during this journey, as it won’t exactly be pleasant. But you won’t be hurt.”  
  
Something in his voice bid her to trust him. He turned to look at her, eyes locking into hers, and she saw a tenderness there she couldn’t comprehend. He held his hand out to her.  
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
His question was simple enough, yet she found herself hesitating to answer. She thought of all the things he had done, to New York, Puente Antiguo, Thor. Then she thought of the way he was looking at her, the feel of his hands on her.  
  
“Yes,” she answered, refusing to be uncertain. Loki may have done terrible things, but he’d never done anything to _her_.  
  
She took his hand, watching his face change from tender to something else, something deeper. It took her breath away; the sun was fully rising now, and the light brandished across him, giving him an ethereal, glowing appearance. He stepped forward, and leaned down to kiss her, a deep kiss that caused her heart to jump into her throat.  
  
He broke the kiss after a few moments, a soft smile on his face. He squeezed her hand, stepping toward the boulder. She followed.  
  
“Hold onto me. Once we begin to move, I’ll hold onto you. You may feel like if you move at all, you’ll be lost. But don’t worry - I won’t let anything happen to you. It will be over before you know it.”  
  
Jane nodded, wrapped her arms around him. She wondered just what was about to happen.  
  
She watched him lean down, his hand firmly pressing against the boulder. She wondered if maybe they were at the wrong one - there were a lot around here - but could hardly believe her eyes when his hand slipped right _through_ it.  
  
It happened too fast, and she couldn’t quite explain what happened after. It was like she had been ripped from her body, thrown into a river, and set free into the current. She felt a tremendous momentum, but she also felt Loki holding onto her tightly. She couldn’t breathe, see, speak. She _did_ feel like there was a sort of pressure trying to force its way between them, to rip them apart, to take him from her. She only grasped him tighter, face burrowed into his chest.  
  
And all at once, it was over. Her legs gave out, but Loki didn’t let her fall - he held her upright, giving her time to become oriented again. Her breathing was too fast, like she had just gone for a hard run. She opened her eyes, and had to shut them again, blinded by the light of where they were. She swallowed harshly, trying to fight the wave of intense nausea.  
  
“Jane, talk to me,” he whispered to her. She was able to stand properly, and he released her a bit, his hands lightly brushing against her back. Her face was still against his chest, attempting to calm down her breathing.  
  
“I’m okay,” she said. “I just…what was that?”  
  
“The portal,” he answered. “We moved through the branches of the Yggddrasil without a vessel. It is not a preferred method of travel.”  
  
She stepped back from him, coughed. “I can see why.”  
  
“You did well, for a mortal,” he said, snark in his tone, yet she knew he meant it. “Now open your eyes. I want you to see where we are.”  
  
Jane opened her eyes, slightly adjusted to the light, which seemed so much brighter than anything on Earth. It was clear that they were standing in a forest, yet the trees were oddly spaced, and rounder than any she had ever seen. Her eyes trailed up the length of the trees and knew they were no trees that could be found on Earth.  
  
“ _Wow_.”  
  
She moved toward one, hand reaching to touch the bark. It was smooth and ridged - she tried to wrap her arms around it and failed miserably.  
  
“They’re called _traík_ ,” Loki said then, and Jane turned to smile at him.  
  
“They’re beautiful. Where are we?”  
  
“Álfheim.”  
  
“Álfheim,” she repeated, deciding she liked the feel of it on her tongue. “What is here, on Álfheim?”  
  
“I have a small home, in the mountains. It is unlikely that I would be searched for there. We can bide our time, if you still wish to come with me.”  
  
She could see the hesitation in his face, in spite of all his air of confidence. She knew that this was it, that at this point, there was really no going back - but she didn’t have to go with him, exactly. She could try to find her own way, and she knew that he’d allow her to do that, if she wished. It dawned on her that this entire time, he had the ability to force her hand - he could have made her do anything, really, with his strength - but he didn’t. She suddenly saw him in a new light: not exactly as the lost, broken man that Thor had painted him as, but as someone who was confused, alone.  
  
Jane reached out to grab his hand, and squeezed. “I want to come with you very much.”  
  
It was only a moment of silence, that they stared at each other. She could feel the weight of her words, the heat of his hand in hers. The small smile on his face was enough, and her heart sped with emotion she couldn’t quite place.  
  
“Let us go. It’s half a day’s walk. But first -”  
  
He waved his hand, and Jane felt the weight of her clothing change. She was wearing just jeans and a tee before, but now, she looked down to see what looked like something she had worn on Asgard - a flowing forest green tunic dress, a metallic belt with intricate engravings. Her wrists were adorned with golden bracelets; they caught the light of the sun and reflected brightly.  
  
“Should we stumble across anyone, they won’t think much of us if you fit in.”  
  
“They won’t recognize you?” Jane asked.  
  
His grin was wolfish. “They won’t see _me_ , but someone else. A simple illusion, yet effective.”  
  
She nodded at him, and he began to walk.  
  
He led her through the trees, a path nowhere in sight. She could tell that they were indeed going up, that they were at the base of a mountain of some kind. Their hands were still linked, and there was a companionable silence for awhile, as Jane adjusted to the knowledge that she was on another _planet_. The air was pleasantly warm, not humid at all, and the plants were in full bloom; she saw flowers and bushes she didn’t recognize but they weren’t so alien that she would have thought anything of them if she saw them on Earth. She glanced at Loki and realized for the first time how tired he appeared. She wondered if he had slept at all after SHIELD took her.  
  
“How did you know where I was?” Jane asked suddenly. Loki didn’t quite still, but slowed down slightly.  
  
“I didn’t know where you were at first. That evening, when you did not return, I thought perhaps you had stayed late. I wished to confirm your location, so I went to your SHIELD facility. You were not there, but Darcy was.”  
  
Jane felt a small stab of guilt at the mention of Darcy; she thought of her hasty promise to explain everything to her. She wasn’t sure if that was going to happen now.  
  
“Darcy was speaking to someone with those communication devices you mortals use - a phone, I believe. She was quite distraught and was moving quickly between the boxes, the computers. She said, ‘I’m backing it up right now, I already told you I’m not sure where they took her’ and I knew at that point that something terrible had happened.”  
  
Jane wondered who Darcy was speaking to - Erik, maybe? Erik would have been practical in that sense, to back Jane’s work up, to make sure it was somewhere safe. She was surprised that SHIELD allowed Darcy to stay after the arrest, but supposed after questioning they would have realized how clueless she really was about Loki - Jane had given her no reason to suspect anything on that front.  
  
“I’m glad she’s okay, at least,” she said. “I just regret I couldn’t explain anything to her.”  
  
“Perhaps one day, you can,” Loki replied, and Jane felt a comforting squeeze of his hand.  
  
They fell into silence again. Jane refused to allow herself to become morose. She had traveled between worlds, and would someday return to Earth, possibly soon. Darcy would understand, she was sure.  
  
Jane wondered about his mountain house - he said it was unlikely they would be searched for there. Was it a secret house, or had it just been so long since he was there that it was forgotten? She glanced at him again, his profile sharply contrasting against the backdrop of the forest. His mouth was set in a firm line, no trace of his earlier smile. She wondered what it would be like to live as long as he and Thor. She wondered just _who_ Loki was.  
  
She didn’t know, really. Her stomach fluttered, perhaps inappropriately given the circumstances, at the thought of him on top of her, eyes locked on hers in dark as he moved in and out of her. She thought of his lips on hers, his breathy moans in her ear.  
  
But that was sex - that wasn’t knowing someone. Or was it? Did Loki feel like he knew _her_?  
  
She figured there would be time for talking once they were at the house. She stilled her cycling thoughts, and forced herself to take in the landscape, the forest.  
  
Once there, they could talk.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts appreciated!


	6. Part Six

The exhaustion Jane felt by the time they arrived to their destination was absolute. She had ceased paying attention to their surroundings hours ago, and her feet ached from the constant movement as well as nearly the rest of her body. If it weren’t for the constant need to step over rocks as they climbed, she may have fallen asleep walking.  
  
So when Loki suddenly stopped, it took her by such surprise in her lulled state that she almost tripped. She felt him steady her, and she looked when he rose his other hand to point.  
  
“We’ve arrived,” he said.  
  
At first, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at. She could see the newly setting sun glinting off of glass, but the home itself was perfectly hidden amongst the trees that if he hadn’t pointed it out, she wouldn’t have even noticed it at all.  
  
It was a small one story wooden cabin, she could see now. The wood perfectly matched that of the trees around it; the roof was covered in moss and greenery in a picturesque way. Jane could not picture Loki living here.  
  
“How did you end up owning this?” she asked, as they began to make their way to the front door. There was no obvious lock on it, and she watched him wave his hand in that controlled way she had observed before as they approached it.  
  
“I did someone a favor,” he replied. She waited, but he didn’t continue. He opened the door - it creaked so loudly Jane was surprised it didn’t fall right off its hinges.  
  
They stepped inside; they were standing in a quaint living area with chairs and a large fireplace along the outside facing wall, the other side was a small kitchen area with a table and chairs. There were three doors that were shut, leading to areas unknown. It was quite sparse, and everything was covered in dust.  
  
“Forgive me,” he said suddenly, and waved his hand again.  
  
The effect was instantaneous and rather startling - the fire burst to life and the dust was gone so quickly that Jane doubted for a moment that it was there to begin with. The drab sitting area essentially glowed now.  
  
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Jane asked, not entirely sure if she was kidding or not. She had come to terms with magic, more or less; she had seen Thor and his armor and hammer do things she had never even dreamed of. But _this_ \- what Loki did - was on an entirely different level that she could barely wrap her head around.  
  
Loki smirked. “Perhaps. But that is for another day.”  
  
A rather stark silence followed this. Jane was quite uncertain what to do now, and she sat in the closest chair to her. It was plump and comfortable, but not well worn; she could feel the stiffness of the fabric.  
  
He looked at her briefly, and instead of sitting, too, he said, “You are obviously exhausted. I’ll get you a hot bath, and then you can get some sleep.”  
  
Jane nodded, realizing that the idea of sleep was so attractive that she almost told him to hold off on the bath. But she was sure she needed one after six hours or so walking through the wilderness on some alien planet, so she watched him head toward the middle door, which also creaked loudly as he opened it.  
  
She wasn’t sure how long he was gone, but she must have dozed off because she was seemingly awoken to him gripping her shoulder lightly, lips on hers. Even half awake, she returned the kiss, longing to feel his arms around her.  
  
He broke the kiss, and Jane opened her eyes to meet his.  
  
“Let’s bathe. Then we can sleep,” he said quietly, helping her up.  
  
He led her into the bathroom, where a rather large tub sat, one unlike she had ever seen before. It appeared to be made of wood, yet reflective; she reached a hand out and felt cool glass.  
  
From behind her, she could feel Loki’s hands on her back, trailing down. She felt her dress loosen, felt cool air against her skin. She felt lips on her neck, and she tilted her head, eyes closing in pleasure at the sensation. She felt her dress slip down her body into a puddle on the ground.  
  
He guided her into the bath, the water hot but not too hot. She sat down, water rising practically to her chin. She could easily fall asleep here, but knew she couldn’t. Instead, she watched Loki undress, and felt the water shift as he joined her in the bath.  
  
She watched him reach for a bar of soap that was on the edge of the tub, wondering just how long it had been there. He lathered it and reached for her.  
  
“Is that space soap?” she blurted before he could make contact. His hands stilled, his expression obviously confused.           
  
She watched comprehension dawn on his face, but it was quick, a small blip in the sea of his emotions. He smiled briefly.  
  
“Yes, Jane. This is indeed ‘space soap’. But, I daresay you’ll find it to be quite sufficient.”  
  
He didn’t wait for her to respond and began to wash her, hands trailing over her in the water. It felt good in an unexpected way to let someone else do this for her.  
  
“Dip your head,” he instructed. She did, and when she came up, he washed her hair too, with the same bar of soap for her body. It smelled heavenly; a sort of earthy, sweet scent that she couldn’t put her finger on. She mused that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to - that it was of nothing found on Earth.  
  
When he was done rinsing her, he began to wash himself. She wanted to reciprocate; she felt that it would be obvious to do so, but she was so tired that she could barely convince herself to raise her arms. Loki didn’t seem to mind, and she allowed the warm water to comfort her in the meantime, watching him.  
  
“So what is the plan, exactly?” Jane asked him, surprising herself. He stilled slightly.  
  
“The plan?” he asked.  
  
“Yes. What do we do now?”  
  
“We must bide our time, Jane,” Loki said, putting the soap back. She could smell it strongly now.  
  
“Bide our time,” she repeated. “But…that’s it?”  
  
“It’s not safe to return to Midgard,” he said, his voice smooth and lulling. “I will keep watch over the state of affairs there. But in the meantime, we must simply wait.”  
  
His words had a strange effect on her. She sat slightly up, looking at him, his eyes on hers, never trailing. She felt a small sense of hollowness at the knowledge that there was no clearcut answer to her question. _We must bide our time_.  
  
“How can you keep watch?”  
  
He hesitated. “There’s a way in which I can. It’s difficult to explain. A sort of portal, if you will, but without requiring my body to move. It was how I could enter your dreams.”  
  
“Okay. So what am I supposed to _do_ in the meantime?”  
  
“In the meantime,” he said, rising up, and offering her a hand. She took it and stood too. “We sleep. At least for now.”  
  
They exited the tub, the cool air causing Jane to feel chilly. She looked for a towel, or the Álfheim version of one, and didn’t see anything.  
  
“Towel?” she asked.  
  
A slight shake of his head was her only answer, followed by the small motion of his hand that she was now becoming familiar with.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, once her skin was dry. She noted her hair had dried too, and marveled at the magic. Was he evaporating the molecules, or doing something else with them? How did he know exactly which molecules to focus on?  
  
The thought made her head hurt slightly, and she reached for her dress.  
  
“Here,” he said, and with a strange movement of his hands, something appeared in them - light green fabric of some kind, and Jane reached for it, the material silky and smooth. “You can sleep in this.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow as she slipped it on; it wasn’t exactly the most revealing thing ever, but it was a far cry from her oversized shirts and pajama bottoms. She decided she liked it, though. It felt as if it had been tailored for her body.  
  
He led her out of the bathroom and back into the living area, and turned to their left toward another one of the closed doors. Opening it, it revealed a spacious bedroom with a rather large bed, its headboard made of a rich wood carved so intricately she had to stop to stare at it. The deep green comforter on it looked like almost like velvet.  
  
“You really like green, huh?” Jane asked, running her hands along the comforter. It was as soft as it looked.  
  
Loki pulled the comforter back, and gestured toward the bed.  
  
“You could say that.”  
  
She got in the bed, nestling in, and he joined her, pulling her close. She felt a movement, and then the room went black.  
  
“I mean…I really like blue, but, I don’t tailor everything I own around it.”  
  
She felt him chuckle into her neck, felt him kiss her there.  
  
“Green was the color assigned to me,” he said slowly, as if he was unsure he wanted to tell her this.  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“On Asgard,” he started, and she could definitely feel a change of tone with those two words, “Thor and I were assigned our colors at the age of five. Baldur too, when he was five. There may not be anything to compare it to on Midgard. It is really only reserved for royalty - the Vanir do it, as well as the Álfheimr. But…it’s essentially our identity. It’s traditionally meant to distinguish us.”  
  
“Who is Baldur?” Jane asked, certain she had never heard Thor mention that name before.  
  
“He was Thor’s brother,” Loki replied, pulling slightly away from her.  
  
This was news to her, and she wondered why Thor wouldn’t have mentioned another brother - but Loki did say was. She wanted to point out that any brother of Thor’s would have also been Loki’s, but knew better than to say that. She remembered Thor’s rants about Loki basically denouncing him and the rest of his family, his explosive mania when he came to Earth after the tesseract.  
  
“What happened to him?”  
  
There was a definite hesitation with this, and Jane turned to look at Loki, who was staring at the ceiling. She reached for his hand, thumb caressing it.  
  
“I…there was an accident. He died.”  
  
It was quite obvious that this pained him to say, and Jane reached for him, ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It was a long time ago.” Loki’s eyes met hers, and she saw no trace of the sadness there any longer. He gripped the hand in his hair, and pulled it toward his mouth, leaving a soft kiss on her palm. The touch was soft, but sent shivers down her spine. The intensity of his gaze caused her stomach to flutter; she clenched her thighs together, arousal beginning to mount.  
  
“Kiss me,” she whispered, reaching for him.  
  
His lips met hers in a frantic, heated kiss; his tongue parted her lips and dipped inside her mouth so expertly her breath hitched. His hands were seemingly everywhere - her hair, her neck, her breasts, leaving fire wherever he touched. She could feel his breaths increasing against her mouth, could feel his excitement pressing against her. The fury of sensation created such a strong need within her that she could hardly understand it - how could she want something so singularly, so _much_?  
  
She broke the kiss, reaching down, gripping his hardness. He let out a slight pant when she made contact, his hand gripping her upper arm.  
  
“I want you,” she said. “Now.”  
  
He said nothing in reply, but pushed her onto her back, hovering above her. His hands trailed down her dress, fingers sliding the fabric up her thighs to her belly. She spread her legs before him, watching him watch her, his eyes conveying something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, his expression shrouded in lust.  
  
He trailed a hand down her stomach, toward her mound. She closed his eyes when he slid a finger down between her folds, pressing the digit inside her.  
  
“Oh,” she gasped, toes curling at the sudden invasion. She could see through hooded eyes Loki’s expression; that sort of darkening she recognized and knew to equate with his pressing desire.  
  
“So responsive,” he said, a wicked quality to his voice. His finger pressed deeper before drawing it back, adding another. He grinned when this caused Jane to moan, to twist her hips for more purchase.  
  
He drew his fingers out, positioning his hips with hers. Jane felt him guide his cock toward her center, entering her with one swift movement of his hips.  
  
That moment of stillness returned, where even though Loki was moving above her, his length filling her up, stretching her, their eyes locked again and Jane’s heart leapt to her throat. His mouth met hers in a fierce, brief kiss.  
  
She gripped his back, pinned him closer to her with her legs. The world seemed to exist solely in this moment, and all she could do was _feel_.  
  
“Jane,” he gasped against her ear. Jabs of pleasure ricocheted throughout her - the familiar coil was beginning to grow within.  
  
“I’m close,” she said, barely more than a whisper. She felt his weight shift, felt two fingers land on that focal point of pleasure. She moaned as he began that rhythm he seemed to know so well, and worked her hips even more against him.  
  
Before she could fully realize it was happening, that coil sprang, and she came spectacularly beneath him. She was dimly aware of her breathy moans, of calling his name. He continued to work her until the very end, continuing his thrusts all the while; as she came-to she became aware of soft moans of his own, his thrusts becoming rougher and less controlled.  
  
She grabbed his face and lowered it to hers, kissing him, biting his lip. She felt him almost shudder, his breaths coming out in short bursts against her mouth. He grasped at her hips, fingers planting against her flesh, the pace of his hips against hers familiar now.  
  
With a final moan against her mouth, he broke the kiss, digging his face into the crook of her neck as he came, pumping into her as deep as he could go. Jane let him ride it out, resting her hand on the back of his head.  
  
After a few moments, after their breathing had returned to normal and Jane’s heart had slowed its pace, he slipped out of her, collapsing beside her, hand reaching for hers. She felt the warm glow of the aftermath, that feeling of intimacy. She allowed herself to be lulled into sleep, unable to think about anything other than her own contentment.  
  
That other stuff - Earth, SHIELD, Darcy - that could wait.  
  
The last thing she felt was Loki’s arm encircling her, pulling her into a cocoon of warmth.

 

* * *

 

 

_Three months later_

  
  
The day dawned cool and bright, as nearly any day on Álfheim did. Jane was already up and outside, sitting in her favorite nook in the trees, sketching the clear horizon, the expanse of mountains seemingly going on forever. On Earth, there was never any time for anything like this, not in between her science and projects and research. But here, where time almost stood still, she could simply _be_.  
  
She heard the familiar sounds of footsteps behind her, and turned to welcome their owner. Loki knelt beside her, leaned in for a greeting kiss.  
  
“Any news?” Jane asked when they broke apart.  
  
“It’s much the same as yesterday,” he replied, settling against the ground. “What progress do you make?”  
  
He gestured at her sketch, and Jane shrugged sheepishly.  
  
“It’s coming along.”  
  
There was a moment of silence as Loki inspected her work.  
  
“You have improved tremendously, my dear Jane.”  
  
His words were soft, and Jane felt an inexplicable rush of pleasure. She had never been much of an artist, but found a strange sort of contentment while sketching her surroundings here. She flipped aimlessly through her sketchbook, bound together with leather strings. She had several more filled up inside the cabin.  
  
Her life had somehow fallen into an easy pattern on Álfheim. She was homesick, to an extent - she missed many things about Earth, primarily the people she left behind, but mostly, she could barely imagine returning anymore. She thought of her homecoming less and less as time went on.  
  
SHIELD was still watching everyone she knew on Earth; Loki checked almost daily, had in fact just returned from doing so. Jane rather thought that SHIELD would never _stop_ watching them - Darcy had been transferred to work in Stark Tower, Agents following her every move. Her mother was also shadowed, unknowingly. Jane had at first wanted to warn her, but she knew it was a terrible idea, and in any case, they had never made contact with her, presumably not to tip her off. The only thing that Loki could not see was Thor - he had left Earth, apparently, perhaps to return to Asgard, but with a lack of portal, Loki was unable to see him.  
  
She felt a hand on her arm.  
  
“Come, let us walk a bit.”  
  
Setting the sketchbook on the ground, Jane stood and allowed herself to be guided from her spot in the trees, through the now well worn path toward the cabin. She leaned slightly into Loki, his scent relaxing her, soothing her from troubling thoughts of SHIELD. They were so very far away now; a bad memory. She thought of the hatred in Wilson’s eyes, the pity in Romanoff’s. She had wondered many times since they arrived here just what would have happened if Loki hadn’t come for her in her cell.  
  
“Are you happy here?” Loki asked, cutting into her thoughts. He was leading her beyond the cabin, into the woods; he went this way to the portal he used to view Earth. The austerity of the trees loomed above her, shielding the sun.  
  
“Yes,” Jane replied, looking up. Birds flitted back and forth, singing to each other. She looked back down, at Loki, meeting his gaze.  
  
The traík swayed in the breeze, allowing brief bursts of light to flicker across his face. His eyes, ever expressive, stirred something within her - she swallowed, eyes flicking to his lips.  
  
She was always taken aback by his beauty. There was something almost tragic about it, she thought, as his hand reached for her face. Countless times she had wondered what would have happened if it had been Loki thrown to Earth that day, not Thor. But she knew, somehow, that despite his actions he was no true villain - not in the traditional sense, anyway. And yet here they were, two wanderers, entwined, in such a way Jane would have never thought possible.  
  
She reached up, her fingers brushing through his hair.  
  
“You need a haircut,” she said, grinning slightly.  
  
“Ah, I must admit that in the arts of cutting hair, I’m somewhat lacking,” Loki said, his own smile appearing. The sight of it caused her heart to skip a beat, and she reached to embrace him, head nuzzling against his chest.  
  
There was no hesitation as he returned the hug, and she could feel his breath in her hair. He planted a kiss on her head.  
  
“What is it?” he asked her, softly.  
  
Jane struggled for words. She didn’t know what it was, only knew that it had overpowered her, had gripped her mercilessly. She shook her head minutely against his chest, voice muffled as she spoke.  
  
“No-nothing. I don’t know. Just, you make me happy.”  
  
A stiffness in Loki’s body she hadn’t known was there relaxed, and Jane felt him pull back from her, hands on her shoulders, eyes searching hers.  
  
“I have never known the joy that I know now, with you,” he said to her, fingers brushing over her clavicle. Jane’s heart began to race, simply from the overwhelming sense of emotion she felt, that she knew his words delivered. She thought of the last three months here - the late nights in front of the fire, the stories, the sightseeing, their time in bed together. The thoughts tumbled around in her head, swelling into something almost tangible, something she could pluck out and spread open, could read like a book. There were three words dancing on the tip of her tongue - the only words she knew she felt right now, right here. But, as she returned Loki’s gaze, the words fell back into her throat, unable to surface.  
  
“I - yes. I feel that too,” she said instead, rather lamely. She gave him a weak smile, dipping her head, staring at the ground, the spot where her dress met the path.  
  
“Jane.”  
  
His voice, that singular syllable, that one thing, caused her body to hum, to burst alive. She lifted her head, meeting his eyes again. His hand trailed against her cheek, his eyebrows knit in such a way that she knew she was his only focus, his one thought.  
  
“I love you, Loki.”  
  
The words tumbled out, fell into the space between them. His hand stilled against her cheek, his expression changing to something else entirely. The softness was still there, yet somehow sharper, less controlled. Strangely, she noticed a vulnerability in his face that she had not seen since that night he had come to her in her apartment, the night that started all of this, really.  
  
“Jane,” he whispered, mouth very close to hers, now. She wished she could freeze this moment - the expression on his face, the tenderness in his eyes. She realized that she didn’t even need him to return the sentiment; he didn’t have to. The way he felt was written all over his face.  
  
His lips met hers then, and as always when they kissed, that familiar rush of energy coursed through her veins, danced in her heart. She gasped into his mouth, his fingers entwining in her hair, gripping. She felt herself being pushed back against something hard - a tree trunk - the roughness of the surface a barrier against her back.  
  
“Jane,” he said again, breaking the kiss. She panted slightly at the rawness of his emotions, the heat of the kiss seemingly still lingering on her lips.  
  
“Loki,” she returned, lightly.  
  
“I love you,” he said finally. “I love you more than the sun itself. You consume me, Jane. You are my heartbeat.”  
  
She could hardly reply to this - his words caused her eyes to blur, her heart to once again find home in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but felt his fingers on her lips.  
  
“I have loved you since perhaps the first moment we met.”  
  
Jane thought of that day - the way she had slapped him before he could really speak, the way he had thrown her before Malekith on the barren realm of Svartalfheim.  
  
As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “It may have not been an ideal meeting, but I could see immediately that you were very brave, and very frightened. Yet you still agreed to do the right thing for us all.”  
  
Ignoring the memory of the aether flowing through her veins - that one experience she forced herself to forget - she nodded slightly, reaching her hand for his face. His smooth cheek washed those memories away, and she struggled for words.  
  
“I’ve never been so happy,” she said finally. “You’ve shown me things I could only dream of.”  
  
“I hope to show you many more,” he said, before meeting her lips again.

 

* * *

 

It was some time later - after Loki had taken her to bed - that they lay together, the heat of the moment wearing off into an exquisite feeling of intimacy, that Jane relaxed against the pillows, his arms encircled around her. She could feel his skin pressed against hers, could feel his steady breaths in her hair as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
She had never known love like this. It had reached between worlds, had engulfed her, changed her. She remembered the dreams she used to have - the ones that Loki had sent her, at first out of mischief, or perhaps ennui, that had evolved into something more, something tangible. She thought of Thor, whom she rarely thought of at all anymore, at least in a personal sense. She wondered briefly what he would think of all this, but realized that she didn’t actually care.  
  
This was one thing that nobody could take from her - this feeling. She would go wherever Loki led her. She wouldn’t even question it.  
  
And, as sleep began to claim her too, she knew that this didn’t bother her at all. She was okay with it.  
  
This was who she was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is the end. You see, when I was originally drafting this, I had only intended for it to be a "short story", about 10k words, maybe even a one-shot. After I started writing it, though, it became really clear that Jane and Loki had more to say than what I had planned for. ;) I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know how I did! Perhaps one day there will be a sequel. ;)


End file.
